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OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION 



AND 



COMPREHENSIVE MANUAL 



OF 



PRINCIPLES. 



V 



By G. WALTER DALE, 

Vocal Culturist and Lecturer on Elocution ; Author of " Talks on Elocution. 



TSoJ 



DANVILLE, IND.: 
"NORMAL TEACHER" PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

J. E. SHERRILL, Proprietor. 
I88l. 



tn«^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1876, by 

G. WALTER DALE, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. 



ELECTROTYPED AT THE 

FRANKLIN TYPE FOUNDRY 

CINCINNATI. 



PBEFACE. 



In the following pages an effort has been made 
to present the subject of Elocution in a logical and 
philosophical manner. 

The outline has been constructed with great care, 
to avoid confusion and to simplify, as much as pos- 
sible, a study which may never be " made easy." It 
may be well to call special attention to the points of 
the outline that may be said to be new in the mode 
of presentation. 

First. — The primary division of the main topic — 
Elocution — is worthy passing notice. There is a theo- 
retical and abstract work to be done in Elocution, 
corresponding to an apprenticeship in mechanic art, 
which is performed under the caption, and in the 
department of Mechanical Elocution. The artist in 
vocal expression, with all its concomitants of facial 
expression and movement, finds scope for his matured 
powers in the boundless field of artistic elocution, 
which is intended to mean, the department in which 
study is culminated in natural effects. There can be 
no doubt as to the truthfulness of this philosophy, 
but there is much doubt that many students will ever 

(iii) . 



IV PREFACE. 

take the pains to fully realize the true meaning of it 
by the long continuance and patieuce of their study. 
American students hurry too much, and these results 
can not be hastened to maturity. 

Second. — The department of vocal gymnastics 
introduces, in Muscular Practice, the specific remedy 
for a multitude of sins of articulation. This work is 
unusual, as presented in this system, but productive 
of the best possible results. 

Third. — The subject of Articulation itself is carried 
farther than usual in works of this kind, because so 
many persons flatter themselves that they possess 
voices of the highest culture, who have neglected 
the very first requirements toward cultivation, viz : 

LOCATION OF SOUND. 

I am indebted to Prof. L. B. Monroe, late, lamented 
Dean of the Boston School of Oratory, for many 
ideas on organic control. This is one of the most 
severe requirements in the whole system of Mechani- 
cal Elocution, and it is commended to students as 
worthy the most scrupulous attention. 

Fourth. — In Abstract Modulation the arrangement 
is peculiar to this system in the disposition of Pitch 
and Dynamics. In the former, Prevailing Pitch is 
introduced as the key pitch from which all changes 
are made by either of the processes following — Skips 
or Slides. The place ordinarily occupied by Force 



PREFACE. , V 

in works on Elocution is filled by Dynamics, a 
stronger term, making force a subdivision of it, and 
adding the quality of intensity, which has so over- 
strained the meaning of the term Force for so long a 
time. Under Dynamics you will perceive form of 
utterance as a subdivision of standard force, 
where it properly belongs as a modification of that 
vocal attribute. 

Fifth. — Special attention is invited to the division 
of Artistic Elocution into Simple and Complex, and 
the reasons for such division. The motive can be 
given in brief, by saying that all forms of expression 
outside of tragedy, comedy, and pathos, are termed 
simple. 

The first requirement — ease of bearing — is one 
not to be lightly passed over. It bears the destinies 
of students, and decides success or failure according 
to the amount of facility in its practice. Expressive 
modulation differs but little from Abstract Modula- 
tion in arrangement, except that Pause, which is dis- 
tinctively an element of Artistic Elocution, is found 
only among its constituent elements. 

Feeling, as discussed here, is suggested by the 
work of Prof. J. W. Shoemaker, late of the National 
School of Elocution, Philadelphia, to whom the 
writer is under obligations for many suggestions in 
the preparation of this volume. 



VI PREFACE. 

Mental emotion, intensifying feeling, gives rise 
to the complex division of artistic elocution and 
its necessity as a separate part of the work is obvious. 
The selections appended are arranged for convenience 
rather than logical following, and the confusion which 
would naturally grow out of such arrangement is 
overcome in the alphabetical index. In the teaching 
department the aim has been to offer such selections 
as would be best adapted to the illustration of princi- 
ples. In the department of public readings care has 
been taken to exclude such selections as may not find, 
at sometime, a place on a programme. 

Several selections are offered here for the first time, 
to the knowledge of the writer, while others are not 
common. A large proportion are well known, but 
scattered through a whole library, costing quite a sum 
to collect for use, and when obtained, are so hidden 
among undesirable things that they lack greatly in 
convenience. The principal object in placing this 
department in this book has been to overcome that 
trouble. 

In writing this work recourse was had frequently 
to the works of others, always with their willing con- 
sent, and with acknowledgment thereof in a note on 
same page. I desire to thank those authors and pub- 
lishers who have thus aided me in a laborious task. 

G. W. D. 

Chicago, Illinois, September 27th, 1880. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Preface . . 3 



PART I. 

Classification of Vocal Organs 21 

Motive Organs . . 21 

Phonative Organs . .22 

Articulatory Organs 23 



PART II. 

Elocution . .25 

Mechanical Elocution ....... 25 

Vocal Culture 26 

Calisthenics 26 

Exercises .27 

Bendings 28 

Breathing . . 29 

Chest Breathing. . . 30 

Side Breathing . . . 30 

Waist Breathing . . 31 

Back Breathing 31 

Abdominal Breathing 31 

Full Breathing ......... 32 

Effusive Breathing .32 

Expulsive Breathing .33 

Explosive Breathing 33 

Muscular Practice . . . . . . .33 

(vii) 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

TAQE 

Depressing the Base of the Tongue 35 

Raising and Depressing the Larynx 36 

Control of the Glottis 37 

The Whispered Stroke of the Glottis .... 37 

Semi-vocalized Stroke of the Glottis .... 37 

Fully Vocalized Stroke of the Glottis .... 38 

The Diaphragm 38 

Articulation 39 

Location of Sound 39 

Natural Sounds . 40 

Organic Control 41 

Shape or Position 41 

Directions for Shape on the Vowels 42 

Precision of Action 43 

Oral Elements 43 

Table of Elements 44 

Vocal Exercise on Elements 45 

Explanation of the Exercises 46 

Suggestions 49 

Combinations 50 

Difficult Sentences 53 

Abstract Modulation 56 

Quality of Voice 56 

Simple Pure Quality 56 

Orotund Quality .57 

Falsetto Quality 58 

Aspirated Quality 59 

Guttural Quality 59 

Pectoral Quality 59 

Exercises in Simple Pure Quality 60 

Exercises in Orotund Quality 60 

Exercises in Falsetto Quality 61 

Exercises in Aspirated Quality 61 

Exercises in Guttural Quality 62 

Exercises in Pectoral Quality 62 

Pitch 64 

Prevailing Pitch 64 

Skips 65 



CONTENTS, IX 

PAGK 

Exercises in Skips . . . ... . . .66 

Slides .... 66 

Exercises in Slides . .68 

Comprehensive Diagram of Slides . . . . . 71 

Dynamics. . .72 

Standard Force .72 

Caution . . ... . . . . .73 

Stress .74 

Intensity . . . .75 

Time 77 

Kate 77 

Quantity . . . . . . . . . . .78 

Action . . 78 

Position . . 78 

Eight Front Position . .79 

Left Front Position . . . . . . . .79 

Eight Oblique Position ....... 80 j 

Left Oblique Position 80 

Shifting Position . . 81 

Advancing . . . . • . . . . . .81 

Eetreating 81 

Facial Effect 82 

Movement .83 

Simple Fundamental Gestures 83 

Compound Movement . 85 

Suggestions 86 

Artistic Elocution. ...... ... . . .88 

Simple Artistic Elocution . . . . . . .88 

Ease of Bearing .89 

The Hands 90 

The Feet 90 

Expressive Modulation .91 

Table of Modulation 92 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Exercises in Medium Pitch 94 

Varieties of High Pitch 95 

Varieties of Low Pitch 95 

Varieties of Medium Force 96 

Varieties of Full Force 97 

Varieties of Subdued Force 97 

Varieties of Medium Rate 98 

Varieties of Rapid Rate . . . . . • . 98 

Varieties of Slow Rate 99 

Major Rising Slides 100 

Minor Rising Slides 100 

Minor Falling Slides 100 

Compound Slides 101 

Radical Stress 101 

Median Stress 101 

Terminal Stress 102 

Thorough Stress 102 

Compound Stress 103 

Tremor 103 

Pause 105 

Grammatical Pauses 105 

Rhetorical Pauses 106 

Examples in Rhetorical Pause 107 

Feeling 109 

Comprehension . 109 

Sympathy 109 

Adaptation 109 

Complex Artistic Elocution HO 

Tragedy Ill 

Comedy HI 

Pathos HI 

Short Essays for Students . . . ■ . • .112 

I. Emphasis 112 

II. Projection of Tone, or Penetration . . . .113 

III. Primary Teaching 114 

IV. Timbre 117 



CONTENTS. XI 

PAGE 

V. Course of Beading on Elocution .... 117 
VI. Silent Practice . . . . . . . .118 

VII. Care of the Voice 120 

VIII. Natural Capacity 123 

IX. Versatility of Expression 124 

X. Dramatic Heading 126 

XI. The Character of Age 128 

XI I. Hints and Suggestions . . . . . .129 



LIST OF SELECTIONS BY DEPARTMENTS. 



TEACHING SELECTIONS. 



CONVERSATIONAL. 



Hamlet's Instruction to the Plaver. 


. 134 


Scrooge and Marley 


. 135 


Forty Years Ago 


. . 138 


Modulation 


. 140 


The Barn -Window 


, 142 


The Boys .... ... 


. 144 


DESCRIPTIVE. 





Crossing the Carry 146 

One Niche the Highest 154 

Recollections of My Christmas Tree 159 

How Coville Counted the Shingles 163 

Mark Twain's Watch .166 



Xll CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

The Night Before Christmas 169 

The Night After Christmas 171 

Bob Cratchit's Christmas Dinner 174 



DIDACTIC. 

Good Beading 178 

The Demagogue 179 

The Young Scholar 181 

The Cynic 182 



ORATORICAL. 

The War Inevitable 184 

The Black Horse and His Eider 185 

Reply to the Duke of Grafton 187 

Extract from Emmett's Vindication 188 

Extract from a Sermon on the Death of 1 incoln . . . 190 

Pyramids not all Egyptian 193 

Paul's Defense before Agrippa 198 

The Death-bed of Benedic#Arnold 201 

The Philosophy of Sleep 205 

Heroes of the Land of Penn 208 

Poe 213 



OROTUND. 

The Launch of the Ship 219 

The Burial of Moses 222 

God 225 

Ossian's Address to the Sun 228 



MODULATION. 

An Order for a Picture '. 229 

Katie Lee and Willie Gray 233 

The Shadow on the Wall 235 

The Bridge . . 23S 



CONTENTS. Xlll 



SIMPLE PATHOS. 

PAGE 

Pictures of Memory . .... 240 

Over the River ... .... 242 

"Good-Night, Papa" . ..... 243 



STUDIES IN GESTUEE. 

Sheridan's Ride 247 

The Smack in School 249 

The Main Truck 251 

Spartacus to the Gladiators 252 

Paul Revere's Ride 255 

Horatius at the Bridge . . 260 

The Battle of Fontenoy 264 

How He Saved St, Michael's ....... 269 

The Revolutionary Rising . . . . . . . 274 

The Independence Bell 277 

The Kearsarge and Alabama 280 

The Charge of the Light Brigade 282 

STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 

The Famine . 284 

The Vagabonds 290 

The Razor Seller 294 

The Farm-yard Song 296 

Our Folks 298 

Pat's Excelsior 300 

Kentucky Belle . . .302 

The Pride of Battery B . . . . . . . .309 

A Baby's Soliloquy 312 

The Dead Doll * 313 

Sister and I . .315 

Little Goldenhair . 320 

Nobody's Child 321 



XIV CONTENTS. 



PUBLIC HEADINGS. 

PAGE 

Scott and the Veteran 324 

The Kaven . 327 

The Hypochondriac 333 

Mother and Poet 336 

The Bells of Sh.andon 340 

The Creeds of the Bells . . . . . . .342 

The Courtin' 345 

The Battle of Ivry .348 



CONTENTS. 



XV 



ALPHABETICAL LIST OF SELECTIONS. 



Baby's Soliloquy, A. . • 

Barn-window, The. Luey Larcom . . 

Battle of Ivry, The. Therms B. Moxauhy 

Bells of Shandon, The. Franm Mahoney 

Black Horse and His Eider, The. George Lippard 

Bob Cratchit's Christmas Dinner. M I***" 

Boys The. Oliver Wendell Holmes . 

Bridie The. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow . 

Burial' of Moses, The. C. F. Alexander . 



PAGE 

312 
142 

348 
340 
185 
174 
144 
238 
222 



Charge of the Light Brigade, The. Alfred Tennyi 
Courtin' The. James Russell Lowell 
Creeds of the Bells, The. George W. Bungay 
Crossing the Carry. W. H. H Murray .■ 

Cynic, The. Henry Ward Beecher . . • 



282 
345 
342 

146 

182 



Dead Doll, The. Margaret Vandegnft . . 
Death-bed of Benedict Arnold, The. Lypard 
Demagogue, The. Beecher. . 



313 
201 
179 



E 



Extract from Emmett's Vindication . . 
Extract from a Sermon on the Death of Lincoln. 



Beecher 



188 
190 



XVI 



CONTENTS. 
P 



Famine, The. Longfellow 

Farm-yard Song, The. J. T. Trowbridge 

Forty Years Ago 



PAGE 

284 
296 
138 



God. Derzhavin 

" Good-night, Papa" 

Good Eeading. John S. Hart. 



225 
243 

178 



Hamlet's Instruction to the Player. Shakespeare 
Heroes of the Land of Penn .... 
Horatius at the Bridge. Macaulay. 
How Coville Counted the Shingles. J. M. Bailey 
How He Saved St, Michael's .... 
Hypochondriac, The. Dr. Valentine 



134 
208 
260 
163 
269 
333 



Independence Bell 277 



K 



Katie Lee and Willie Gray 233 

Kearsarge and Alabama, The. Thomas Buchanan Read . 280 
Kentucky Belle 302 



Launch of the Ship, The. 
Little Goldenhair . 



Longfellow 219 

320 



CONTENTS. XV11 



M 



PAGE 



Main Truck, The . «... 251 

Mark Twain's Watch. Samuel L. Clemens . . . .166 

Modulation. Lloyd 140 

Mother and Poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning . . . 336 



N 

Night Before Christmas, The. Clement 0. Moore .. . . 169 

Night After Christmas, The . . . . . . .171 

Nobody's Child. Phila. H. Case . . . . . . 321 



O 

One Niche the Highest. Elihu Burritt . . . ,. . . 154 

Order for a Picture, An. Alice Gary 229 

Ossian's Address to the Sun 228 

Our Folks. Ethel Lynn . . .298 

Over the River. Nancy A. W. Priest 242 



Pat's Excelsior 300 

Paul Eevere's Eide. Longfellow 255 

Paul's Defense before Agrippa. Bible 198 

Philosophy of Sleep. George Walter Dale .... 205 

Pictures of Memory. Alice Gary 240 

Poe. Luther C. Harris 213 

Pride of Battery B, The. Frank H. Gassaway . . . 309 

Pyramids not all Egyptian 193 



Eaven, The. Edgar Allan Poe 327 

Eazor Seller, The. John Wolcot 294 

Eecollections of My Christmas Tree. Dickens. . . . 159 

Eeply to the Duke of Grafton. Edward Thurlow . , . 187 

Eevolutionary Eising, The. T. B. Bead .... 274 
2 



XV111 CONTENTS. 

S 

Scott and the Veteran. Bayard Taylor 

Scrooge and Marley. Dickens 

Shadow on the Wall, The 

Sheridan's Eide. T B. Read . 

Sister and I 

Smack in School, The. Palmer 

Spartacus to the Gladiator. Elijah Kellogg 



PAGE 

324 
135 
235 
247 
315 
249 
252 



Vagabonds, The. Trowbridge 290 



W 



War Inevitable, The. Patrick Henry 184 



Young Scholar, The. Charles Dudley Warner, 



181 



OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



f Mechanical 



f Calisthenics 
Vocal Gymnastics -j Breathing 

1 Muscular Practice 

| Chest 
f Location of Sound J Throat 
Articulation -, ( Head 



. Precision 
j" Tonics ] 
[Oral Elements 1 Sub-tonics V Combination 
(. Atonies J 
f f Pu 



_ Abstract Modulation.. 



ELOCUTION 



Position 

Facial Effect 

Movement {^und 

Ease of Bearing ( Quality 

Pitch 

Expressive Modulation -I Dynamics 
1 Time 



Quality of Voice -! ' <>rol " ml 

( Impure ( Falsetto 

j Aspirate 

f Prevailing Pitch | Guttural 

Pitch 1 Skips [ Pectoral 

I Slides 



Standard 
Dynamics -j rulec "l Stress 
(, Intensity 



Force 



. Quantity 



P.I llr-0 



Grammatical 
. Rhetorical 



j" Comprehension 
Feeling 1 Sympathy 
(. Adaptation 



f Simple Elements 
[Complex \ combined with 

L 



f Emotion ( Tragedy 
I Expression \ Comedy 
( Pathos 






PAET I 



CLASSIFICATION OF VOCAL ORGANS. 



r Motive - 



Classifica- 
tion op 
Vocal 
Organs 



Principal \ Diaphragm 

f Abdominal 1 
Dorsal \ Muscles 

Inter-Costal J 



Phonative 



(Primary ■< Vocal Ligaments 
o i f Bronchial Tubes 
Secondary | Cavitieg of ^ Mouth 



Glottis 
Uvula 
Palate 

Articulator \ J™f° 

Teeth 
.Lips 



Preparatory to the study of Elocution it would be 
well to become familiar with the tools or organs with 
which we expect to work, and which we propose to 
improve and cultivate into intelligent action. 

The vocal organism is three-fold. 

Motive organs are those impelling to action ; these 
are principal and subordinate. 

The diaphragm is the master- wheel, which, as the 
principal motive organ, causes the abdominal, dorsal, 
and inter-costal muscles to act in sympathy with it. 

(xxi) 



22 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

In study do not waste time on the action of the 
subordinate motive organs, but devote your energies 
for the most part to the control of the diaphragm. 

In Part II exercises will be found under the head 
of muscular practice, which will accomplish the de- 
sired end. 

The second division of vocal organs is called 
phonative, or sound producing. 

These organs are primary, or those actually pro- 
ducing sound, and secondary, or those only modifying 
the sounds produced by the primary organs. 

The vocal ligaments, improperly called the vocal 
chords, produce all the sounds of the human voice 
and constitute the primary organs of this class. 
They also form the glottis or opening at the top of 
the larynx, or vocal box, at the upper end of the 
trachea or wind-pipe, and are susceptible of great 
change of tension. Their action governs pitch as 
does the action of the diaphragm govern force. 

The bronchial tubes and cavities of the mouth are 
the secondary phonative organs modifying the sounds 
produced by the vocal ligaments. This modification 
is obtained by changing the positions of the second- 
ary organs so that their relations to each other and 
to the vocal ligaments may vary to accord with the 
nature of the sound produced. 

Thus : to lower the larynx, which is part of the 
bronchia, and open the internal mouth well, we obtain 
a chest sound, the richness of which will depend upon 
the skill we have acquired in the control of these 
movements. 

All sounds produced thus far by action of the 



CLASSIFICATION OF VOCAL ORGANS. 23 

motive and phonative organs are only intelligible in 
that we know they are sounds of the human voice. 
They convey as yet no definite intelligence or idea. 
They may indicate conditions of feeling or emotion in 
the tone in which they are uttered, nothing further. 

It requires the action of that multiform, adjustable 
set of molds, known as the articulatory organs, to 
utilize the production of the first two classes of organs. 

The articulatory organs consist of the glottis, 
uvula, or pendent soft palate at the back of the 
mouth, palate proper, or roof of the mouth, some- 
times called the hard palate, tongue, jaws, teeth, and 
lips. The explosive vowels are articulated by the 
glottis; the explosive consonants, by the combined 
action of the tongue and hard palate, or teeth. 

The uvula governs nasality, and aids in the articu- 
lation of nasal sounds. The palate gives resonance, 
besides acting in conjunction with the tongue in the 
production of explosive consonants as g, k, etc. 

The tongue is the busiest and most flexible of all 
the organs, and performs an office in the articulation 
of all sounds, if not by action, by conforming the 
shape of the mold in conjunction with the organs 
contingent upon it. 

The jaws serve to vary the general size and shape 
of the internal mouth and to give roundness and 
finish to many of the sounds, especially vowel sounds. 

The teeth are very important members of this class, 
giving sharpness of outline to all sounds, and they 
are directly interested in the essential characteristics 
of a class of sounds called dentals, and which can 
not be articulated well without them. 



24 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

The lips give a delicacy of finish to the articulate 
sounds, and are the principal organs used in the 
articulation of the sounds called labials. 

Taken together, we have here a most beautifully 
adjusted mechanism, susceptible of great cultivation 
and capable of wonderful results. It is not the pur- 
pose of this work to enter into the technicalities of 
the anatomy and physiology of this mechanism, 
although it may be said to be within the scope 
of such a treatise. These subjects are now more 
thoroughly studied in the schools than formerly ; 
hence it is not deemed essential to occupy time upon 
them now. It will be observed that the classification 
begins with the organs most remote in the process of 
producing intelligible, or articulate sounds. There is 
an inter-relation existing between these classes that 
makes them inseparable in action, and so closely are 
they connected, that not even the least important 
organ may be removed or impaired without affecting 
the completeness of the vocality. 

The importance of keeping the entire machine in a 
healthy condition will be appreciated at once. For 
further attention to this the student is referred to the 
essay on " Care of the Voice," in the body of this 
jvork. The treatment and practices tending to a 
cultivation of these organs, as they form a part of 
Elocution, do not necessarily involve sense, as the 
results are abstract; hence, their province is naturally 
in Mechanical Elocution. 



PART II. 
ELOCUTION. 

Elocution is the art of expression by voice and 
action. 

We deduce this definition from the fact that all 
have an art or method of giving out thought, which 
is the art of expression with each individual, and may 
be either good or bad. From the above hint we 
hope to be understood as opening with the broadest 
possible view of the subject, taking nothing for 
granted, but assuming that every thing must be 
learned. 

Elocution may be considered in two general 
divisions, Mechanical and Autistic. 

Mechanical Elocution is so called because all its 
processes are formative and abstract. 

We take the vocal apparatus as a system of organs 
capable of being developed to a capacity producing 
greater results than they do in a state of Nature. ( 

The means used to accomplish this excellence are 
simply contrived and locally applied without neces- 
sary reference to expression at the time. 

As the apprentice in the mechanic arts grows by 
rudimental processes into the artist, so the student of 
Elocution gains, by a like regime, grace and ease of 
bearing, as well as extensive vocal capacity. 

(25) 



26 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Mechanical Elocution embraces Vocal Cul- 
ture and Action. 

Vocal culture consists in all direct and indirect 
means of giving strength and scope of action to the 
vocal apparatus. 

As such means we use Vocal Gymnastics, 
Articulation, and Abstract Modulation. 

Vocal Gymnastics embraces Calisthenics, Breathing, 
and Muscular Practice. 

The utility of Calisthenics, as an indirect means of 
vocal development, is very obvious. Simple free- 
hand movements and light wand exercises, with a 
few exercises in bending, are best adapted to the pur- 
poses of Elocution. They have the effect of giving 
a vigorous, healthy action to the muscles of the 
chest, sides and abdomen, thus invigorating greatly 
our respiratory apparatus, giving activity to the 
blood and exhilarating the entire system. They 
further render valuable assistance in imparting flexi- 
bility to the organs directly exercised, i. e., the arms, 
spine, etc. 

The subjoined exercises have been used with 
marked effects by the author, and are not designed 
for occular display so much as for their beneficial 
results. 

Directions. 

In all the gymnastic exercises assume an easy, erect 
position, with the weight resting alike on the feet; 
chest active, or well thrown out; shoulders thrown 
naturally back — not restrained in position — with the 
clenched hands placed lightly on the breast. Strike 
out with decision in each exercise, for the value of 



CAEISTHENIC EXERCISES. 27 

this department as a vocal auxiliary, depends upon 
the muscular shock produced by the blow. 

In the first movement, strike horizontally right and 
left. 

In the second, allow the blow to hinge upon the 
elbow, outward and downward. 

In the third, strike directly upward so as to touch 
the ear with the sleeve as the blow is given. 

In the fourth, horizontally in front. 

The bendings must be carefully executed to avoid 
over-exertion of any of the muscles. 

The instructor should use words of command to 
preserve concerted action in his exercises. 

The following are suggested : 

When the class is called, use the word, " Position!' 7 
when each student should be in his place, erect, with 
his hands down at sides. 

" Ready! " when every hand should assume its posi- 
tion for striking, as directed above. 

Then the teacher should say "Begin!" at the 
same time counting thus : — 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and 
5 and 6 and 7 and 8 and. 

The stroke must be made on the count, and the 
hand easily recovered on and, without striking the 
chest with any considerable degree of force in re- 
covering. 

Calisthenic Exercises. 

I. Side movement with hands. — Strike twice with 
each hand, right hand on 1 and 2, left hand on 3 and 
4, alternate on 5 and 6 and, striking with both hands 
simultaneously on 7 and 8. For the alternate, strike 



28 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

out with the right hand on 5, recover the right, and 
strike out with the left on and, recover the left, and 
strike out with the right on 6, and recover the right 
on and for the double stroke on 7, etc. 

II. Downward movement. — Same order, with 
care, as suggested in general direction above, about 
making the stroke. 

III. Upward movement. — Same order as first 
and second. 

IV. Forward movement. — Same. 

Bendings. 

Position erect, arms akimbo, fingers in front. 

First. — Bend right and left, eight counts, bending 
on the count, rising on and. Be careful to preserve 
a braced carriage of body throughout. Do not allow 
the feet to change position during these movements, 
but keep them resolutely down, however they may tend 
to rise in the effort. Let the bending be a movement of 
the spine at the hips, or small of the back. Bend as far 
as possible in each direction, observing that the out- 
ward ear, shoulder and hip form a right line when in 
bent position. 

Second. — Bend forward and backward, with the 
same observance concerning the spinal movement. 

Swinging from right to left, and from left to right. 

Right Swing. — This you accomplish by bending as 
above, to the right first, then carefully swing around 
backward, until you complete the circle, when you 
rise from the right bent position. 

Left Swing. — Bend left, and swing forward and 
around until you reach the left bent position from 
which you rise. 



BREATHING. 29 

Take time to all these bendings, and never execute 
them in a jerky manner; injury may result from 
such carelessness ; besides, they are intended to en- 
courage a graceful movement, and should be done 
carefully. 

Other exercises may be introduced into practice at 
the discretion of the teacher or student, but those 
given will be found to cover the ground pretty 
thoroughly as relating to vocality. It has been the 
practice of the author to open the work of each class 
with the system given here, and he has found it quite 
sufficient for a calisthenic drill at one time. It can 
not be too forcibly presented, that to receive the 
greatest good the student must enter enthusiastically 
into the work. The whole system should be aglow 
after such a class drill as these exercises afford. 

Breathing. 



BEEATHINGJ, 



f Chest 
Side 
Specific •{ Waist 
Back 

Abdominal 
f Prolonged 
-,-, I Effusive 
* ULL 1 Expulsive 
t Explosive 



No other single principle can be said to be more 
important in Elocution than correct habits of breath- 
ing. 

Care is to be exercised in, what we breathe, and 
how we breathe. 

Nothing but pure air is fit to be inhaled, any im- 
purity renders it injurious. We should breathe in 



30 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

such a manner as to fill any portion of the lungs we 
choose, or to fill thoroughly all the lung cells. 

Always inhale through the nostrils with closed 
lips, in practice, as otherwise we parch the delicate 
organism in the throat and render articulation diffi- 
cult and indistinct. The suggestion just given only 
applies to breathing as an exercise. It would be 
absurd to follow this direction in reading ; then, we 
should embrace all favorable opportunities to inflate 
the lungs. It is not best to have them too full of air. 
They will supply themselves if we only give them 
time and opportunity. 

For the convenience of the student the following 
exercises are given : 

I. Chest Breathing. 

Position erect, as in gymnastics. Chest naturally 
expanded. Breathe slowly, filling the upper part of 
the lungs only. This requires a careful management 
of the organs and an effort of the will. Instead of a 
distension of the abdominal muscles, there should be 
a bracing resistance, forcing the breath compactly into 
the cells of the upper part of the lungs. Breathe 
twice in each exercise to the rise and fall of a wand 
in the hand of the instructor. The time occupied in 
these cases should agree with that usually taken to 
inhaling and expelling a full breath naturally. 

II. Side, or Costal Breathing. 

Place the arms akimbo, with fingers in front. Bend 

carefully to the right as far as you can without pain. 

While in this position, breathe, and you will fill the 



BREATHING. 31 

lower part of the left lung. Expel the breath before 
rising. — Rise. Bend left and repeat. — Rise. 

Note. — In these bendings let the movement be similar to the 
bending gymnastic exercise, being careful not to allow the head 
to drop over, or, be raised up. 

III. Waist Breathing. 

Arms akimbo. Position erect. Breathe so as to 
expand the waist muscles sidewise, thus filling the 
lower parts of the lungs both sides at a time. 

IV. Back, or Dorsal Breathing. 

Hands placed lightly on small of back, palms out- 
ward. With an effort of the will upon the dorsal mus- 
cles, breathe deeply so as to cause a very perceptible 
rise and fall in the region covered by the hands. 
This is a very difficult exercise, and one which will 
not likely give much satisfaction at first, but persist 
in it until you can cause as perceptible a motion of 
the dorsal muscles as is usually perceived in the chest 
muscles in an ordinary breathing. This exercise is 
very important, and must not be given up if you fail 
in the first few attempts. 

V. Abdominal Breathing. 

Hands down at sides. Position erect. Breathe in 
such a manner as to forcibly distend the abdominal 
muscles. These muscles, together with the diaphragm, 
act as the handle of the vocal bellows, and you can 
not exercise too great care upon their manipulation. 

They are the agents which give proper shape to many 



32 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

of the most wonderful vocal effects, besides entirely 
controlling our force. 

Note. — The above five exercises may be termed specific 
breathings, as they are intended to fill only parts of the lungs. 
Those which folloAv are all full breathings, which uniformly 
fill the entire air-receiving cavity of the lungs. 

VI. Full Breathing. 
Position as in abdominal breathing. Breathe a deep 
inspiration, producing a sensation as trying to burst 
a belt bound about the waist. 

VII. Prolonged Breathing. 
Breathe a deep inspiration very slowly. Expel the 

breath in ordinary time. Prolong the inspiration as 
long as possible. This exercise gives organic control 
of the respiratory organs in the throat, and is very 
important as an exercise. It is rarely used in read- 
ing, as given here, but do not slight its practice on 
that account. The student of Elocution can not 
afford to under-rate any thing which will make him 
master of a single muscular movement of the vocal 
apparatus. 

VIII. Effusive Breathing. 

A deep inspiration in ordinary time. Expel the 
breath through the slightly parted lips on a gentle 
aspiration of h. Prolong this expulsion as long as 
possible. The inhalation in the previous exercise, and 
the exhalation in this, should be made to reach the 
time occupied in counting from one hundred, to one 
hundred and fifty. Unlike the preceding exercise, this 



BREATHING. 33 

is very often used in reading, and is especially use- 
ful in all aspirate uses of the voice. 

As additional exercises in effusive breathing, take 
the vowels, a, e, i, o, u, and emit them very gently 
in prolonged utterances on the effusion of the breath. 
Recite familiar passages without taking breath, and 
use this exercise more than any other, as it teaches 
economy in the expenditure of breath in vocality. 

IX. Expulsive Breathing. 

Same as effusive, only expel with greater force. 
Object similar. 

X. Explosive Breathing. 

Catch the breath suddenly through the open lips as 
if gasping. Fill the lungs full instantly in the effort,, 
and expel with a sharp explosion of the whispered h. 

Suggestions. 

Practice the above exercises according to directions,, 
not less than once a day, going over the entire list, 
breathing about twice on each exercise. 

If you should practice ten years on these elements 
never forget the breathing exercises. Their effect on 
your articulation and vocal strength will very soon be 
perceptible. 

Muscular Practice. 

Muscular practice deals with the muscles, over 
which it is necessary to gain control for purposes of 
articulation and facial expression. 

In order to perfectly articulate many of the ele- 
ments and combinations in the language, it is neces- 



34 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

saiy to have more than ordinary facility in the use 
of the muscles of the jaws, lips, tongue, palate, glottis, 
etc. All defective articulation results from lack of 
such culture. 

These exercises lead to that organic control of 
which we shall treat hereafter. 

The teacher and student may devise many exercises 
which will be well adapted to this purpose, and only 
a few comprehensive examples shall be placed here 
for present practice. The author has found these 
highly efficient. 

To give flexibility to the muscles of the lips, cheeks, 
and jaws, give utterance to the diphthongal elements 
oi-ou, as arranged in the accompany- 
ing exercise. 

M . . Give the separate 

aw+e— 01. p t 

, , elements first ending 

ah-{-oo=ou. . . . . , & 

in each case with the 

compound, thus: aw, e, aw, e, oi, ah, oo, ah, oo, ou, etc. 
Follow with the triangularly arranged exercise, with 
the greatest extravagance in the use of the muscles 
required to act in their production. Do not be re- 
strained from fear of appearing ridiculous, for it is 
permanent benefit you desire to reach, not present 
appearances, or feelings. 

The trouble with most speakers is, that the jaws 
-and lips move too little in articulation, and exceed- 
ingly indifferent results are sure to follow. 

Watch the cultured vocalist rendering a fine musi- 
cal production, and you will see those muscles used 
very freely. 

This extravagance is only to be used in Mechanical 




DEPRESSING THE BASE OF THE TONGUE. 35 

Elocution. In artistic efforts it is the exceptional 
case in which mouthing, or excessive use of the 
articulating organs, should have to be reproved. The 
danger is that they will not be sufficiently exercised 
in reading or speaking. 

Another class of practices is adapted to the develop- 
ment of organs, which many suppose to be involun- 
tary muscles, i. e., the soft palate, base of the tongue, 
glottis, and larynx. 

The soft palate forms the division between the 
mouth and the nasal passages. 

When it is raised as far as possible it closes the 
internal opening of the nostrils, and the vocal current 
passes entirely through the mouth. When it is 
allowed to fall upon the tongue, the passage to the 
mouth is closed, and vocality passes through the nos- 
trils, producing a nasal effect. 

•When partially contracted, the passage of the cur- 
rent is divided in its escape. 

To avoid nasality the palate must be sufficiently 
raised. The soft palate is raised in the act of yawn- 
ing; and the best direction to the learner in first 
practicing this control is, to think a yawn. 

Do not get the impression that great effort is re- 
quired to lift the palate. It is done almost, or quite 
unconsciously, when the sensation of its action becomes 
familiar. 

Depressing the Base of the Tongue. 

In practicing the preceding exercise the base of the 
tongne will be found to descend whenever the palate 
is raised. It is well to pay special attention to this 
3 



36 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

movement, as it must be practiced whenever we pro- 
duce a chest tone. The following suggestion will 
assist the student in gaining this control : 

Project the tongue against the teeth, and then 
forcibly draw it back as far as possible in the mouth. 
Test the success of the effort by placing a finger at 
the front of the neck close under the jaw. The throat 
will be thrown forward and downward in case of 
proper action, increasing the interior capacity of the 
pharynx. These exercises should be studied and 
practiced until the base of the tongue can be easily 
and loosely dropped at will. 

Raising and Depressing the Larynx.* 

A facile control of the larynx is indispensable to a 
complete use of the voice. Its position directs the 
current of air which forms the sound, and the direc- 
tion thus given regulates the register of the sound. 
The registers of the voice, and the action of the 
larynx in controlling them, will be treated in their 
proper connection, and from the foot-note the student 
may learn how he may readily be master of the 
action of the larynx. 



*The larynx (Adam's-apple) rises and falls with the movement 
of the base of the tongue to which it is attached. In the act of 
swallowing, it ascends to the highest position. In gaping it 
descends. In singing the musical scale from the lowest note of the 
voice upward, the larynx gradually rises. The movement may be 
verified by the touch. The quality of the voice is affected by the 
position of the larynx. If the greatest volume of voice be desired, 
the larynx must be held fixed in its lowest position. — Monroe's^ 
Vocal and Physical Culture. 



STROKE OF THE GLOTTIS. 37 

CONTROL OF THE GLOTTIS. 

This organ gives character to all explosive uses of 
the voice. The importance of having its action com- 
pletely subject to the will is obvious. 

To exercise the glottis requires considerable care, 
as we may easily be deceived in our practice. 

It is necessary, if possible, to have an experienced 
teacher to direct its development until the ear of the 
student becomes his critic. 

The "Whispered Stroke of the Glottis. 

Open the mouth widely, and whisper the sound of 
u, as in up. 

There is in this exercise a momentary compression 
of the breath, which prepares it for a sudden and 
forcible discharge, similar to that noticed in sounding 
h y p, or t y with force. 

Semi-vocalized Stroke of the Glottis. 

In this exercise we merely produce a sound con- 
taining less aspiration than the whispered stroke. In 
both instances the sound is similar to a little cough, 
although entirely different in its method of produc- 
tion. The following tests of correct results will be 
useful to the student : 

1. Hold the back of the hand within two or three 
inches of the mouth while practicing, and if no breath 
is felt against it, it is an evidence that the effect is true. 
If breath is felt, it shows too great an openness and 
laxity of the organs, and must be overcome by prac- 
tice. 



38 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

2. A slight twitch of the soft palate, and sometimes 
of the nostrils, accompanies the properly executed 
effort. 

This should be carefully worked up, and after using 
the simple exercise suggested above, pass into the 
explosion of the vowels and words, and so advance 
until you can introduce the explosive successfully 
into your reading. See Exercises on Explosives. 

Fully Vocalized Stroke of the Glottis. 

Place the organs of articulation in position for the 
production of any vowel element, then produce the 
stroke of the glottis with full vocality. 

The Diaphragm. 

In Elocution the diaphragm plays a very important 
part, as the principal motive organ of vocality, and 
must receive attention in our study. It influences our 
vocality through the respiratory apparatus. Its con- 
tractions and expansions cause the lungs to receive 
and expel air, and its manner of acting, imparts a like 
character to our utterances, thus: if we suddenly 
contract the diaphragm the sound will be short and 
sharp, and vice versa. The breathing exercises will 
give the diaphragm extensive practice, as also the 
exercises for the glottis. The above muscular prac- 
tices are utilized in organic control and applied in 
articulation and abstract modulation. 



LOCATION OF SOUND. 39 



Akticulation. 



Articulation 



r Chest. 
Location of Sound -j Throat. 
1 Head. 



Organic Control {|^ on 

{ 



Tonics "] 
Oral Elements j Sub-tonics V Combinations. 
( Atonies J 



Articulation is the process of molding the sound 
of the human voice into distinct and intelligible forms 
called oral elements. 

"While the oral elements are the results, we must 
first study the mechanical operations which produce 
them. Let the student first attend to 

Location of Sound. 

The object of this study is to properly locate the 
voice, physiologically. All sounds of the human voice 
are produced by vibrations caused by the escape of 
air over the vocal ligaments, or chords, while the 
latter are in a state of greater or less tension. 

Sounds of the voice, in relation to their production, 
are of two classes, natural and articulate. The for- 
mer are the basis of the latter, and must receive the 
attention of the student before he approaches those 
sounds which depend upon them. 

A natural sound is one which may be produced 
without further mechanical effort than a contraction 
of the diaphragm and a slight tension of the vocal 
chords. Groans, sighs, moans, and all sounds of such 
character, are Natural. For our purpose, practice on 
the sound of oo, in c-oo-1, opening the lips but slightly, 



40 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

and giving out a smooth, pure sound, devoid of 
guttural harshness. Make no effort beyond parting 
the lips. Let the sound seem to make itself. As 
further practice, allow the jaws and lips to be slightly 
parted, then give out whatever sound the organs will 
produce under these circumstances. Nearly all voices 
are located too high, organically, and the chief object 
of this practice is to enable the student to give forth 
a purely natural sound, that shall not have been 
tampered with before it reaches the ear, by a set of 
organs which have no concern in its formation. 

This location of the voice is affected in the manner 
set forth above, and the sounds are called Natural, 
because the organs of articulation are not used in 
giving them utterance. The sounds produced by 
animals, are of this class. 

Natural Sounds are recognized in three classes, 
Chest, Throat, and Head Sounds, according to their 
physiological location in production. They depend 
almost wholly upon the direction of the current of 
air which produces them for their distinctiveness of 
character. 

Proper direction is given to the current of air by 
a favorable adjustment of the Phonative Organs. 

The Chest Sounds are produced by lowering the 
larynx and base of the tongue. This action enlarges 
the pharynx, and opens the connection between the 
vocal ligaments and the bronchial tubes. The 
sound receives its peculiar chest characteristic from the 
bronchial reverberations; and the richness of those 
sounds depends upon the enlargement of the pharynx 
and the rounding of the cavities of the mouth. 



SHAPE, OR POSITION. 41 

Throat Sounds are mostly guttural, and are obtained 
by using the throat muscles most, in their production. 
Some sounds are essentially of one or the other of 
these classes ; thus : aw is a chest sound, and can not 
be properly made any thing else. Ah is a throat 
sound, as essentially, yet not guttural. E is distinc- 
tively a head sound. Sounds of this latter class, by a 
raising of the larynx, are thrown forward in the 
mouth, and are called head sounds for that reason. 

Organic Control. 

Organic Control is the second element of Articula- 
tion. It deals only with Articulate Sounds. 

It has been stated, that no organic effort was neces- 
sary in giving a Natural Sound ; but Articulate 
Sounds depend wholly upon a proper management of 
the Organs of Articulation, viz: the Lips, Jaws, 
Tongue, Palate, Uvula, and Larynx. The operation 
of these organs molds the even current of Natural 
sound into distinct shapes or forms of sound, which 
are as varied in their character as are the positions 
given to the organs while forming them. Natural 
Sounds are the raw material from which we are 
required to form certain prescribed sounds, which are 
understood when heard, and are the component 
elements of speech. Since this sound must be defi- 
nitely shaped, we must have definite molds into which 
the sound may pass to take the required form ; hence, 

Shape, or Position, 

of the Articulating Organs is of prime importance. 
If we do not have a perfect mold, how may we hope 



42 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

to obtain a faultless casting? It is just as reasonable 
to expect this, however, as to place the organs in 
position to say e, and suppose we should get a perfect 
a from such an action. 

Each separate sound in the list of Oral Elements 
requires a definite and particular shape, or position of 
the organs, which shape will successfully produce no 
other sound. 

When we become accustomed to this care in articu- 
lation, we find that when we place the organs in 
position for any sound we have in mind, that no other 
can be produced without a change. 

Regard shape, as here discussed, indispensable. 

The student will find the following directions of 
great value in studying Articulation. 

Directions for Shape on the Vowels. 

A. Project the lips in a square, box- like form, 
dropping the jaw slightly, or until you get a rich, 
clear sound, free from cracking or rasping. 

E. Distend the lips sidewise, contracting them at 
the corners of the mouth as in a broad grin, with 
the teeth but slightly parted. Do not fear an excess 
in the labial distension. 

I. From the compound nature of this element, it 
requires a shifting position, or, in other words, the 
position must be changed during the formation of the 
sound. An analysis of the element will simplify 
ah -\- e = i. Drop the jaw very much, and give the 
ah part, producing the e vanish, by allowing the jaws 
to approach each other. 



OEAL ELEMENTS. 43 

0. Give as great an internal cavity as you can, by 
lowering the jaw as far as possible, at the same time 
contracting the lips and depressing the base of the 
tongue, then emit sound, and you will be surprised 
how much music there is in it. In closing the sound 
allow the jaws to nearly close. 

U. This is another compound element. Analysis,. 
e + oo = u. Shape for e ending on oo, as in cool y 
projecting the lips as much as possible on the oo 
vanish. 

In Organic Control, after attending to shape, we 
find that something is yet needed to give a finished 
Articulation. That something is, 

Precision of Action. 

Every organ concerned in the production of an 
element must be prepared to act with exactness at the 
right time. 

A sound should never be commenced until every 
organ is in position for giving it proper shape, and 
in the compounds, or diphthongal elements, each 
change of position must be made precisely, or the 
effect is marred, and imperfect articulation the con- 
sequence. 

Oral Elements. 

The elements of the language are divided into three 
classes, according to their formation. 

Tonics, or those composed of pure tone, or vocality. 

Sub-tonics, or those composed of vocality, and 
breath combined. 



44 



OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



Atonies, or those formed by the breath alone. 

All the expressions of ideas in the range of human 
research are expressed by the various combinations 
of these elements, forming syllables and words. 

The following table of 'the elements will assist the 
student in the study of this department : 

Table of Elements. 



TONICS 


SUB-TONICS. 


ATONICS. 


a-rm, 


e-ve, 


6-ay, 


2/-et, 


/-ee, 


a-11, 


n-o-t, 


d-ay, 


z-one, 


A-e, 


a-sk, 


n-o-r, 


9-*Y> 


a-z-ure, 


k-ey, 


a-t, 


o-ld, 


J-oy, 


th-en, 


p-ea, 


a-ir, 


u-p, 


Z-ay, 


b\i-nk, 


s-ee, 


a-le, 


f-H-11, 


m-et, 


si-ng, 


t-e\l, 


p-i-ne, 


r-u-de, 


w-ay, 


wh-en. 


sh-un, 


p-i-n, 


use, 


r-an, 




th-m. 


e-rr, 


oi-1, 


v-'me, 






p-e-t, 


ou-t. 


w-et, 







This table is based upon Professor Mcllvaine's 
arrangement in his excellent work, and gives forty- 
five elements. 

There can be no certain number fixed upon to 
denote the number of elements in our language, as 
the number of sounds depends entirely upon the 
minuteness of the analysis to which they are sub- 
jected. 

In the foregoing table the division of Tonics is the 
one upon which the student will be required to ex- 



VOCAL EXERCISES ON ELEMENTS. 45 

pend the most time, and exercise the greatest care. 
There can be nothing more deplorable than the fact 
that the tonic elements of our language are more 
abused than all the other elements combined. 

It is here that the student will see the necessity of 
attending to Shape in giving utterance to sounds. In 
view of this fact, and from knowledge of the great 
value of it, the author has deemed the following 
system of Vocal Exercises on the vowels, a, e, i, o, u, 
worthy the especial attention of every student. 

Vocal Exercise on Elements.* 

1. a, e, i, o, u, with Natural Force. 

2. a, e, i, o, u, with Full Force. 

3. a, e, i, o, u, Effusively. 

4. a, e, i, o, u, Expulsively. 

5. a, e, i, o, u, Explosively. 

6. a, e, i, o, u, with Swell. 

7. a, e, i, o, u, with Sustained Voice. 

8. a, e, i, o, u, Alternating high and low by sets. 

9. a, e, i, o, u, Alternating high and low by indi- 
vidual sounds. 

10. a, e, i, o, u, with Tremor. 

11. a, e, i, o, u, with Varying Pitch. 

12. a, e, i, o, u, with Full Breathing. 

As exercises for the proper production of tone and 
specific development of the vocal organs, it is believed 
that no system of practices can be offered which will 



*From Professor J, W. Shoemaker's course in the National 
School of Elocution and Oratory, Philadelphia. 



46 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

yield greater or more satisfactory results than that 
given above. 

Each exercise is designed to produce a certain effect, 
and a wonderful improvement can be made upon a 
voice in a few weeks by the breathing, and these 
exercises alone. 

The student can devise many exercises which would 
produce other effects, and assist him in gaining full 
control of his voice. 

Explanation of the Exercises. 

(1.) Natural Force means with the ordinary con- 
versational force of the voice. 

( 2.) Full Force is merely an increased loudness 
and fullness of the voice without changing the pitch. 

( 3.) Effusively is the basis of the pathetic in vo- 
cality, and is subdued in force. 

(4.) Expulsively is an enlarged effusive, being 
given with more abrupt force on beginning, allowing 
the force to decline toward the close. 

( 5.) Explosively. This will give the student more 
trouble, in a greater number of cases, than any other 
exercise in Elocution. To arrive at a proper under- 
standing of its character, we must trace it to its 
origin, and study it from that point. 

Take the sound of u, as in up, and produce it as 
here directed. Opan the mouth well, and then 
whisper the sound in such a manner as to produce a 
sudden shock, or stroke of the glottis, and a forcible 
action of the diaphragm. The sound, and its organic 



EXPLANATION OF THE EXERCISES. 47 

effect, are known as the Whispered Stroke of the 
Glottis.* 

To ascertain if it is correctly formed, hold the back 
of the hand, or a fragment of tissue paper, within 
two or three inches of the mouth. If the breath be 
felt on the hand, or cause the paper to waver, it is an 
evidence that the breath is not all utilized in the 
explosion. Repeat this practice, increasing the 
vocality until it is no longer whispered. Continue 
persistently, until you can successively explode the 
vowel sounds, subject to the same test, with a sharp, 
clear, ringing report. 

Explosive tones are very important, as they are 
found in all kinds of dramatic reading. The only 
sure method of acquiring this, as well as many other 
things in elocution, is to secure the services of a 
teacher who is competent to give proper direction and 
criticism. 

( 6.) With Swell. This exercise is capital in giving 
command of Force. Begin with Effusive Force, and 
gradually increase the force until you reach the Expul- 
sive, then allow the force to gradually decrease to 
Effusive, the starting point. Allow no jerking in 
the changes of force, nor any alteration of pitch what- 
ever. 

(7.) With Sustained Voice. It is important that 
we be able to sustain a tone of a given pitch and 
force in the reading of many selections. This exer- 
cise enables us to do so with propriety. 

In giving the sounds, hold whatever Pitch and 



* Note.— See Stroke of Glottis. 



48 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Force you strike in starting out, and prolong the 
utterance as long as you please, taking care not to 
allow the voice to swerve in Pitch or Force. 

(8.) Alternating high and low by sets. To give the 
voice facility in transposition from one Pitch to 
another, this and the following exercise are designed. 

Take a Pitch considerably above medium, and give 
the whole set, a, e, i, o, u, upon that Pitch immedi- 
ately following, with the set on a Pitch an octave 
below. Vary the Pitches by taking different high 
Pitches to start with. 

(9.) Alternating high and low by individual sounds. 

This is the same as (8), except that you alternate 
the pitch on alternate sounds; thus: 

( 10.) With Tremor. The tremor is a very power- 
ful auxiliary in rendering pathetic passages, and 
should be studied mechanically, that the organs may 
perform the bidding of the will. Give each sound 
with a steady even tremor, varying the pitch and 
force frequently. 

(11.) Varying Pitch. This exercise enables us to 
find any pitch within the compass of the voice. The 
sounds are given on two pitches; thus: 

j\r\j\r jxfx/xf 

AAA/ A/V 



SUGGESTIONS. 4& 



AAA/ 



Great scope may be given this exercise in pitch. 
There is less than an octave between the pitches. 
You may conveniently use do, fa, of the scale. 

(12.) Full Breathing. Inhale a full breath, and 
explode each breath with excessive force, as in the Ex- 
plosive. After each breath, expel the air from 
the lungs, and inhale anew for the following breath. 

This is a violent exercise, and should be carefully 
managed. The direction of a skilled instructor is 
necessary to assist the student in understanding it 
properly. 

Suggestions. 

In practicing the above system, have the Shape and 
Precision of Action of the Organs always in mind. 

In practice we should always be somewhat extrava- 
gant in the use of the Articulating Organs, for the dan- 
ger is, that we will not use those organs sufficiently, 
while the cases of their excessive use are as 1 to 100. 

Rather be pedantic in the articulating, at first, than 
to slight it. 

In teaching children, extravagant articulation is to 
be recommended in practicing, and when grown up, 
they will rarely mumble. It is not sufficient that we 
attend to the articulation of single elements. 

A great deal of attention should be paid to 
Combinations, which are in themselves difficult to 
pronounce, as well as sentences containing difficult 
arrangements. 



50 outline of elocution. 

Combinations. 

The construction of this term, in the chart, is that 
all words are combinations of elements. Here we 
intend using it as meaning such combinations as are 
difficult to articulate. 

Bd.— e-bb'd, so-bb'd. 
Bdst. — prob'dst, stabb'dst. 
Bl. — blow, noble. 
.BR—doubPd, hobbPd. 
Bldst— trembPdst, disabPdst. 
Biz. — bubbles, pebbles. 
Blst. — tumbPst, troubPst. 
Bz. — ribs, webs. 
Dst. — robust, robb'st. 
DR_bridPd, paddPd. 
Didst— handl'dst, fondPdst. 
Dlz. — kindles, fumbles. 
DM.— paddPst, kindPst. 
Dn. — gokPn, lad'n. 
Dnz. — gladd'ns, hard'ns. 
Dst. — didst, hadst. 
Dths. — widths, breadths. 
Dzh. — edge, lodge. 
Dzhd. — imag'd, fledg'd. 
Fld.—rifta, bafflM. 
Fldst.— trifl'dst, stifl'dst. 
Fist.— stifPst, shuffl'st. 
Fnd—sof n'd, deafVd. 
ML— fifth, twelfth. 
Ms. — rafts, wafts. 
Ftst.— lift'st, waft'st. 



COMBINATIONS. 51 



Gdst. — draggYlst, flagg'dst. 
Gld. — dragged, hagg'ld. 
Gldst. — mingPdst, singPdst. 
Glz. — eagles, juggles. 
Gist. — mingPst, struggPst. 
GsL — digg'st, bigg'st. 
Kldst. — sparkPdst, circPdst. 
KM. — speckPst, sparkPst. 
Knd. — wakVd, darkVd. 
Kndst. — black Vdst, thick Vdst. 
Knst. — beck'n'st, wak'n'st. 
Ks. — oaks, sticks. 
Kst. — next, shak'st. 
Ksih. — sixth, sixth. 
Ksths. — sixths, sixths. 
Kts. — acts, facts. 
Ktst. — act'st, lik'dst. 
Ldz. — fields, wields. 
Ldst. — hold'st, shield'st. 
Ldzh. — indulge, bilge. 
Ldzhd. — indulg'd, bilg'd 
Lies. — silks, hulks. 
Lhst. — milk'st, milk'st. 
Imxst. — o'rwhelnPst, o'rwhelnPst. 
Lpst. — scalp'st, help'st. 
Ltst. — halt'st, melt'st. 
Lvst. — revolv'st, dissolv'st. 
Mdst. — illunPdst, bloonPdst. 
Mtst. — tempt'st, promptest. 
Ndst. — bend'st, send'st. 
Ng. — singing, ringing. 
Ngd. — wrong'd, wing'd. 



52 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Ngdst. — twang'dst, wrong'dst. 
Ngth. — strength, length. 
NgksL — thank'st, think'st. 
NgU. — rankM, thank'd. 
Ndzhd. — reveng'd, chang'd. 
Ntsh. — bench, launch. 
Ntsht. — launchM, wrenched. 
NtsL — haunt'st, want'st. 
Pldst. — trampPd'st, peopPd'st. 
Plst. — rippPst, trampPst. 
Ptst. — accept'st, intercept'st. 
Rbd. — disturb'd, garbM. 
Rbdst. — curb'dst, disturb'dst. 
Rbst. — curb'st, absorb'st. 
Rdst. — reward'st, regard'st. 
Rdzh. — large, urge. 
Rks. — marks, works. 
RJcst. — work'st, bark'st. 
RM.-— lurk'd, work'd. 
RJctst. — bark'dst, work'dst. 
RldsL— furFdst, hurPdst. 
Rlst. — curPst, furPst. 
Rmd. — arnPd, haruPd. 
Rmdst. — harnPdst, warmest. 
Rmst. — charnPst, alarnPst. 
Rnd. — warn'd, scorned. 
Rndst. — return'dst, warn'dst. 
Rst. — worst, first. 
Rsts. — bursts, bursts. 
Rtst. — start' st, hurt'st. 
Rtsht. — searched, smirch'd. 
Rvdst. — starv'dst, preserv'dst. 



DIFFICULT SENTENCES. 5& 

Rvst. — nerv'st, swerv'st. 

Sf. — sphere, sphynx. 

Sks. — asks, tasks. 

Skst. — ask'st, bask'st. 

Ski— ask'd, task'd. 

Slst. — nestPst, rustPst. 

Snst. — lessen'st, listVst. 

Sps. — grasps, clasps. 

Sts, — mists, tastes. 

Stst. — tast'st, list'st. 

Thnd— lengthVd, strengthVd. 

Thndst. — ledgthVdst, strength Vdst. 

Thd.— breatW, bathU 

Thdst. — sooth'dst, smooth/dst. 

Tldst.— rattPdst, startPdst. 

TlsL— battPst, rattl'st. 

Tsht. — touched, watch'd. 

Tsh'st. — snatclPdst, thatch'dst. 

Vdst — lov'dst, lav'dst. 

Vlst— shovTst, trav'Pst. 

Vldst— shrivTdst, ravTdst. 

Vnz. — rav'ns, heav'ns. 

Zldst. — dazzl'dst, puzzPdst. 

Zlst. — puzzPst, dazzPst. 

Zmz. — chasms, prisms. 

Znd. — blaz'nd, crimsVd. 

Znz. — seasons, blaz'ns. 

Znst. — reasVst, seasVst. 

Difficult Sentences. 

Kept time. Fresh start. Dreary ride. And did. 
Tangled tackle. Fold down. Most true. 



54 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Very strange. After reading. Every variety. 
Hurry round. Truest statistics. Distinct utterance. 
Ruthless savage. Kiss you. As sure. Six sixths. 
Spotless shroud. Its scepter. Field tent. Falls, 
false, faults. 

He expects by his acts to conceal the facts. 

Five wives weave withes. 

Such pranks Frank's prawns" play in the tanks. 

Put the cut pumpkin in a pipkin. 

Pick up the pips. A school coal-scuttle. 

Pick pepper peacock. Coop up the cook. 

A knapsack strap. Six thick thistle sticks. 

She says she shall sew a sheet. 

A sure sign of sunshine. 

The sun shines on the shop-signs. 

A shot-silk sash shop. This thine own. 

I snuff shop-snuff; do you snuff shop-snuff? 

She sells sea-shells. Some shun sunshine. 

A truly rural ruler. A laurel crowned clown. 

A sad dangler. Literally literary. 

Don't run along the wrong lane. 

Let little Nelly run. Chaste stars. 

Laid in the cold ground. 

Half I see the spirit sigh. 

Oh ! the torment of an ever-meddling memory. 

All night it lay an ice-drop there. 

There is a difference of sects. 

Oh studied deceit ! Make clean our hearts. 

Three gray geese in a green field grazing. 

Goodness centers in the heart. 

His crime moved me. 

She could pain nobody. 



DIFFICULT SENTENCES. 55 

His beard descending swept his aged breast. 
Ceaseth, approacheth, rejoiceth. 
Do you think ghosts speak ? 
I call upon the chaste stars, define its station. 
The hosts still fought, while the mists seemed 
gathering. 

He accepts the office, and attempts, by his acts to 
conceal his faults. 

Death ravaged for months throughout the whole 
length and breadth of the land. 

He laughs and quaffs his ale, knowing that the rafts 
and skiffs are on the reefs near the cliffs. 

Pr'thee, blithe youth, do not mouth your words 
when you wreathe your face with smiles. 

That morning, thou that slumberd'st, not before, 
Nor slept'st, great ocean, laid'st thy waves to rest, 
And hush'dst thy mighty minstrelsy. 

When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
The lines, too, labor and words move slow. 

The sea ceaseth when the wind ceaseth sighing. 

Lone Night, descending like a sable shroud, 
Had darkly canopied the troubled deep. 

White Whitman whittles, whistles, whispers, and 
whimpers, near the wharf. 

He has prints of an ice-house, an ocean, and wastes, 
and deserts. 

When a twister a-twisting would twist him a twist, 
For twisting his twist three twists he w T ill twist ; 



56 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

But if one of the twists of the twist doth untwist, 
The twist that untwisteth untwisteth the twist. 

Practice upon the foregoing exercises until you 
shall have acquired an easy and accurate control of 
the organs in the production of any combination in 
the language. 

Abstract Modulation. 

This element of Mechanical Elocution embraces 
Quality of Voice, Pitch, Dynamics, and Time. 

It is termed abstract, for the reason that its province 
is the development of the voice by exercises, which 
do not necessarily embody expression. 

Quality of Voice. 

The uncultivated voice is not usually capable of 
being used in more than one or two varieties, and 
then, if good, it is often the result of accident. 

Quality is the first process to which the articulated 
sound is subjected, and may be discussed as Pure 
and Impure. 

The Pure qualities embrace the great field of general 
expression in conversation and ordinary discourse. 

For further discussion, we will consider the Pure 
qualities in two divisions, Simple Pure and Oro- 
tund. 

Simple Pure Quality of Voice is the proper medium 
of common conversation. It is produced by the most 
natural action of the vocal organs, with due regard to 
all the details of Articulation. 

The Vocal Elements are well adapted to the develop- 



OKOTUND QUALITY. 57 

ment of this and the other qualities with the proper 
degrees of Pitch and Force. 

All practices based on the Vocal Exercise on 
Elements denominated Natural Force will give a 
good standard Simple Pure Quality.* 

Orotund Quality is the result of the fullest and most 
complete use of the Vocal Organs, and is round, full, 
clear, and musical. 

It is used in the expression of grand thoughts and 
sublime ideas, and may be subdivided as follows : 

f Poetic. 
Orotund Quality -{ Oratorical. 
L. Colloquial. 

The first is used in poetry, the second in the various 
branches of oratory, and the last in the dignified 
characters in plays, as kings, queens, dukes, etc. 

Exercises on the basis of Full Force and Expul- 
sive force are the means of developing the best 
standard in this quality. 

The following points demand attention in acquiring 
the orotund : 

1. The pharynx is expanded. 

2. The base of the tongue is depressed. 

3. The larynx descends. 

4. The veil of the palate is raised. 

5. The vocal passage from the glottis to the mouth 
is made large and round. 

There is no distinct line of demarkation between 
pure tone and orotund. 



* See exercises on Simple Pure Quality. 



58 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

By the accompanying foot-note, it will be perceived 
that great cavity is given to the mouth in the pro- 
duction of the orotund quality, which gives it its 
peculiar and agreeable resonance. 

Be careful to avoid confusing the Guttural with 
the Orotund. 

The Impure Qualities are susceptible of the follow- 
ing divisions : 

Falsetto, Aspirated, Guttural, and Pec- 
toral. 

Falsetto Quality is found above the natural register 
of the voice in the production of children's and high 
pitched female voices. 

A greater tension of the Vocal Chords, and more 
physical effort on the part of the organs is required, 
to produce this quality than any other. Take the 
musical scale, and run as high as you can naturally ; 
then, when you change the action of the organs, rais- 
ing the larynx, and greatly contracting the vocal 
passage, the sharp sound produced is falsetto. 

Practice on sentences of the proper length (short) 
until you have acquired facility in the use of the 
quality. 



The chief physiological points of difference are as follows : 

IN PURE TONE. IN OROTUND. 



1. The larynx rises. 

2. The soft palate partially falls. 

3. The tongue is in its natural 

position. 

4. The vocal passage is narrow. 

5. The air column is directed to 

the front of the mouth. 



1. The larynx is depressed. 

2. The soft palate is raised. 

3. The back of the tongue is 
dropped. 

4. The vocal passage is wide. 

5. The air-column is directed 
(in learning) vertically. 

Monroe's Voc. and Phys. Culture. 



EXERCISES IN SIMPLE PURE QUALITY. 69 

Note. — Do not be misled by the reference to the musical scale 
above, into the idea that only the shrill falsetto of the scale is fal- 
setto to the speaking voice. This quality is susceptible of as great 
a variety of pitches as almost any other, only its standard low 
pitch must be falsetto. 

Aspirated Quality is any use of the vocal power in 
which the breath predominates, or is combined largely 
with vocality in the utterance. 

It expresses sentiments of fear, secrecy, caution, 
certain forms of anger, etc., etc. The Articulation 
must be very distinct. The practice of economy in 
the use of breath is necessary. 

Guttural Quality is a rough, harsh use of the vocal 
organs ; it is formed largely in the throat, and is used 
in effusions of anger, hatred, defiance, etc., etc. 

The organs in the throat are contracted by an effort 
of the will, so that the utterance is hindered free 
escape, and is tinctured with a peculiar, rasping 
sound. This quality may be somewhat aspirated, 
when it may be termed Aspirated-guttural. 

Pectoral Quality is found below the Simple Pure 
and Orotund registers of the voice, and may be recog- 
nized in two divisions— Guttural-Pectoral, partaking 
of the Guttural quality, and Aspirated-Pectoral, par- 
taking of the Aspirate quality. This quality is used 
in the expression of awe, deep despair, the language 
of supernatural beings, etc., etc. 

The Pectoral quality is produced by lowering the 
pitch of the voice to the lowest degree, applying full 
force, depressing the larynx as much as possible, and 
articulating distinctly. 

Note. — The impure qualities are to be sparingly practiced until 
the student shall have mastered the Pure qualities, and they 



60 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

should never receive as much prominence as those most frequently 
used, and which tend to enrich the voice. 

Exercises in Simple Pure Quality.* 

1. The Lord is my shepherd : I shall not want. He maketh me 
to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still 
waters. 

2. The splendor falls on castle walls, 
And snowy summits old in story ; 
The long light shakes across the lakes, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. 
3. European guides know about enough English to tangle up 
■every thing so that a man can make neither head nor tail of it. 
They know their story by heart, — the history of every statue, 
painting, cathedral, or other wonder, they show you. They know 
it, and tell it as a parrot would, — and if you interrupt, and throw 
them off the track, they have to go back and begin over again. 
All their lives long they are employed in showing strange things to 
foreigners and listening to their bursts of admiration. 
4. I can not vouch my tale is true, 
Nor say, indeed, 'tis wholly new ; 
But true or false, or new or old, 
I think you'll find it fairly told. 

Exercises in Orotund Quality. 

1. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! 

2. Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. 
Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst 
formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to ever- 
lasting thou art God. 

3. With deep affection and recollection, 

I often think of those Shandon bells, 
Whose sounds sp wild, would in the days of childhood, 
Fling round my cradle their magic spells. 

4. Republican institutions have been vindicated in this experi- 
ence as they never were before ; and the whole history of the last 



* Each succeeding example in these exercises represents a little 
different application of the Quality. 



EXERCISES IN ASPIRATED QUALITY. 61 

four years, rounded up by this cruel stroke, seems in the provi- 
dence of God, to have been clothed, now, with an illustration, with 
a sympathy, with an aptness, and with a significance such as we 
never could have expected, nor imagined. 

5. O Thou Eternal One ! whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide ; 
Unchanged through time's all devastating flight ; 
Thou only God ! There is no God beside ! 

6. My lords, I am amazed ! Yes, my lords, I am amazed at His 
Grace's speech. The noble duke can not look before him, behind 
him, nor on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer 
who owes his seat in this house to his successful exertions in the 
profession to which I belong. 

7. Though yet of Hamlet, our dear brother's death, the memory 
be green ; and that it us befitted to bear our hearts in grief, and 
our whole kingdom to be contracted in one brow of woe, yet so far 
hath discretion fought with nature, that we, with wisest sorrow, 
think on him together with remembrance of ourselves. 

Exercises in Falsetto Quality. 

1. Good night, papa. Jessie see you in the morning. 

2. It's time for me to go down to that there berryin' ground, sir, 
and ask to be put along with him. I wants to go there, and be 
berried. 

3. Yes, it is worth talking of ! But that's the way you always 
put me down. You fly into a rage, and then if I only try to speak, 
you wont hear me. 

4. "Yes, yes; Parson Morrell was a good man," said my grand- 
mother, " and I'm glad the council wasn't hard on him." 

5. O God ! my child ! my child ! 

6. Will the New- Year come to-night, mamma? I'm tired of 
waiting so. My stockings hung by the chimney side full three 
long days ago. 

Exercises in Aspirated Quality. 

1. Speak softly ! All's hushed as midnight yet. 

2. Boys, be still ! There's some bad news from Granger's folks. 



62 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

3. Soldiers, you are now within a few steps of the enemy's out- 
posts. Our scouts report them as slumbering in parties around 
their watch-fires, utterly unprepared for our approach. 

4. Avaunt, and quit my sight ! Let the earth hide thee ! Thy 
bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; thou hast no speculation 
in those eyes which thou dost glare with ! Hence ! horrible shadow, 
unreal mockery, hence ! 

5. How ill the taper burns ! Ha ! Who comes here ? I think 
it is the weakness of mine eyes that shapes this monstrous apparition. 

6. And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far, 
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

Exercises in Guttural Quality. 

1. Bold fool, when slaves like thee are tasked, it is my will. 

2. I saw the breast that had nourished me, trampled by the hoof 
of the war-horse ; the bleeding body of my father, flung amid the 
blazing rafters of our dwelling. 

3. Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle; I am no traitor's 
uncle. 

4. Speak, Coward, if thou hast a tongue. Tell why, with hellish 
art, you slew a man. 

5. I'll have my bond! I will not hear thee speak ! I'll have my 
bond, and therefore, speak no more. I'll not be made a soft, dull- 
eyed fool — to shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield to Chris- 
tian intercessors. Follow not. I'll have no speaking. I will have 
my bond ! 

6. Thy threats, thy mercies I defy, 
And give thee in thy teeth the lie. 

Exercises in Pectoral Quality. 

1. Years passed ; and weeds and tangled briers grew above that 
sunken grave, and men forgot who slept there. 

2. I had a dream, which was not all a dream ; the bright sun was 
extinguished, and the stars did wander darkling, — ray less and path- 
less. 

3. I am thy father's spirit; doomed for a certain time to walk 



EXEECISES IN PECTORAL QUALITY. 63 

the night, and for the day, confined to fast in fires till the foul 
crimes done in my days of nature are burnt and purged away. 

4. O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; 
A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, 
And said as plain as whisper in the ear — 
The place is haunted. 

Note. — The third example, and the last line of the fourth, are 
read in Aspirated-Pectoral. The remaining examples represent 
Guttural-Pectoral. 



64 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



PITCH. 



Pitch - 



{Medium 
High 
Low 
ai . / True 
Skl P s \ Slurred 



Slides 



[ Compound {S e (^ 



After assigning a definite Quality to our utterance, 
our next care should be to pitch the voice to accord 
with the sentiments we are delivering. 

Pitch has reference to the high and low of the 
voice. The principal degrees of Pitch are High, 
Medium, and Low. From the highest to the lowest 
pitches we can command, we determine the compass 
of the voice. 

Prevailing Pitch. 

Pitch is divided into Prevailing Pitch, Skips 
and Slides. 

Prevailing Pitch is recognized in three phases, Me- 
dium, High, and Low. It is the pitch that charac- 
terizes the reading, or delivery of an entire sentence, 
paragraph, or discourse. The Prevailing Pitch of 
any selection is always determined by the sense. 

The divisions named above are only for conven- 
ience ; they are not arbitrary, nor marked by distinct 
dividing lines. 

The Medium Pitch is based upon conversation, the 
others grow out of it. 



PITCH. 65- 

Examine the exercises on Pitch for illustrations. 

Skips in Pitch are called True Skips and Slurred 
Skips. 

The former are passages of the voice from one pitch 
to another, with an interval of silence between each 
two. In the latter, the sound issues continuously, a 
fresh impulse of the voice being heard on each suc- 
ceeding note of the scale. 

To illustrate Skips, take a narrow strip of India- 
rubber, and with one end held in the teeth, the other 
in the hand, stretch it slightly. Now, with the thumb 
and fore-finger of the disengaged hand, lay hold of it 
near the middle, and draAV it out of a direct line,, 
letting it loose suddenly. The sound produced in 
returning to its position is a low pitch. When you 
have reduced it to its greatest tension in this manner, 
you have the highest pitch, which the entire length is 
capable of producing. By shortening the rubber, and 
proceeding in the same way, you will produce corre- 
spondingly higher pitches. 

The Pitch of a sound depends upon two conditions- 
of the vocal chords, viz : Tension and Length. 

In a low pitch the vocal ligaments, or chords, are 
comparatively relaxed, and the vocal passage is open 
throughout the entire vibratory length of these chords,, 
and the vibrations pass through greater space, and 
are not so rapid as in high pitch. In a high pitch 
the tension is greater, and the vocal ligaments, by 
this increased tension, meet each other at the ends, 
leaving the vocal passage narrow, and the vibrat- 
ing length much shortened. The vibrations are rapid, 
and the pitch high. 



66 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

All degrees of variety may be given to our Pitch 
by the exercises on the vowels. 

The Alternating exercises, numbers 8 and 9, and 
the Varying Pitch, number 11, are specially adapted 
to the development of Skips in Pitch. 

Additional Exercises in Skips. 

True Skips. 

e e 

ah 1 I ah 

aw aw 



Slurred Skips. 

Coal charcoal Charcots 
Co o^ 

C° °^\ 

charcoal charco oal charcoal 



t=t 



J I i J 



1 1 J # t=± 



5 



Low. I stood on the bridge at midnight, 
Medium. As the clocks were striking the hour, 
High. And the moon rose o'er the city 
Low. Behind the dark church tower. 

Change the order frequently, until you have prac- 
ticed all the pitches of the voice in the above stanza, 
and give a great deal of attention both to Skips and 
Slides. 

Slides. 

A Slide is a passage from one Pitch to another, 
either upward or downward, by a continuous move- 
ment of the voice. Slides contribute very largely to 
the effect in all vocal efforts. They are Simple and 
Compound; Major and Minor. 



, SLIDES. 67 

The Simple Slides are slidings of the voice, either 
upward or downward, on a single sound. 

A Simple rising Slide, Major, is an upward move- 
ment of the voice passing through a whole tone. 

A Simple falling Slide, Major, is a downward move- 
ment of the voice passing through a whole tone. 

The same definitions apply to Minor Slides, 
except that instead of the voice sliding through a 
whole tone, it passes only through a half tone, or less. 

The terms whole and half tones are used here only 
approximately. The sound is not measured with 
musical exactness in the speaking voice. 

A Compound Slide is the union of a rising and a 
falling slide (simple), or a falling and a rising slide 
(simple) on a single sound, forming what is com- 
monly known as a circumflex. 

A Falling Compound Slide combines a rising and a 
falling slide upon a single sound; thus: 

" O Rome, Rome ! thou hast been a tender nurse to 
me." 

A Rising Compound Slide unites a falling and a 
rising slide in a single element ; thus : 

" It is vastly easy for you, Mistress Dial, who have 
always, as every body knows, set yourself up above 
me, — it is vastly easy for y6u, I say, to accuse other 
people of laziness." 

A Single Compound Slide is a slide in only two 
directions, as in Exercises 7-12, page 69. 

A Double Compound Slide is a movement of the 
voice in more than two directions, and is called the 
wave by some authors. 
5 



68 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Exercise. 

y\ sX yX yX yx 

o> e % o u 

An Equal Compound Slide is one in which the move- 
ment in pitch terminates in the same pitch as that in 
which it was commenced, as in Exercises 7, 8, 9, 10, 
11, and 12. 

An Unequal Compound Slide is one in which the 
terminal pitch is either higher or lower than the 
initial pitch. 

Exercises. 

yX yX yX yX yX 

a e i on 

Y* \y \y Vf \* 

X X X X X 

a e i o u 

v^ </ y ■ x y 

Note. — Double Compounds are always unequal. 

The student need have no fear of spending too 
much time or effort upon Slides. 

The delicacy of his expression and the music of 
his voice depend more largely upon his management 
of Slides than any other single element. 

Exercises in Slides.* 

No. 1. — Simple — From Medium to High. 

High. j a jc 



Medium 
Low. 



\a N3 h o ^w 



* The accompanying series of diagrams were devised by Rev. G. K. 
Morris, A. M., of Camden, N. J., by whose permission they are in- 
serted here, the author believing them to be the most complete 
exercises extant. 



EXERCJSESIN SLIDES. 



69 







No. 


2.- 


-From High to Medium 


High. 


1 




c\ 


\ l \ °\ 


Medium 


atf 




et 


1 J J 


Low. 


a 




e 


i 






No. 


3.- 


-From Low to Medium. 


High. 


a 




e 


i 


Medium 


4a 




4ie 


4i 40 



Low. 



High. a 
Medium a 

Low. a 




No. 5. — From Low to High. 



up 



40> 4G 4% 40 AiU 

\a \e \i \o \iu 

No. 4. — From Medium to Low. 

e i u 

* ell J o* u*> 




No. 6. — From High to Low. 



No. 7. — Compound — From Medium, by High, to Medium. 
High. ' a \ 



70 



OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



No. 8. — From High, by Medium, to High. 
High. a A \ e k \ iA °A Ui 




Medium V a 
Low. a 







High. 
Medium /^a 

Low. 



No. 9. 
a 



-From Low, by Medium, to Low. 
e i o u 








No. 10. — From Medium, by Low, to Medium. 
High. a e i o u 

Medium, <*>& \ el | t*A I °/i I w/ 



Low. 








No. 11. — From High, by Low, to High. 
High. /«K / e \s / * V t ° \\ I u 




No. 12.— From Low, by High, to Low. 




High. 

Medium 



EXERCISES IN SLIDES. 71 

Comprehensive Diagram of Slides. 

I (i i) § i 

Low. \a/ } \§f \iJ \pj W 

Directions. 

In the first series allow the Slide of the voice to 
take the direction of the arrows in each exercise. 

In the second (Comprehensive) series use the angu- 
lar marks pointing upward, in giving from Medium 
to High, and from High to Medium; — the angles 
pointing downward, in giving from Medium to Low, 
and from Low to Medium. 

The angles pointing upward are also used to repre- 
sent the falling Compound Slides, and those pointing- 
downward, the rising Compound Slides. For further 
exercises in Skips, see the division of Expressive 
Modulation, in Artistic Elocution. 



72 



OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



DYNAMICS. 



f Standard 



Dynamics 



{Medium 
Full 
Subdued 
r Effusive 
[Form^ Expulsive 



[_ Explosive 

Radical {g-8 

Median 
Stress •{ Terminal 
Thorough 
Compound 
Intermittent 

{Medium 
Vehement 
Suppressed 

Dynamics has reference to the Force and Intensity 
of the voice in speaking or reading. 

Changes of Force are effected by proper control of 
the action of the diaphragm. 

Force is divided into Standard Force and 
Stress. 

Standard Force is the power of voice applied to 
an entire selection or discourse, and is viewed with 
regard to Degree and Form. There may be many 
degrees of force, but, for convenience, we make three 
— Medium, Full, and Subdued. These, like Pre- 
vailing Pitch, may be varied and modified from the 
Medium, which is based on Conversation. 

Form, in Standard Force, has reference to the 
Manner of Utterance, and is known in three divisions 
— Effusive, Expulsive, and Explosive. 

If either of these forms prevail in reading a selec- 
tion, the Standard Force is determined from it. 

The Effusive Form is a smooth, even utterance suited 
to pathos and gentle or tender emotions. 



DYNAMICS. 73 

The Expulsive begins sounds abruptly and gradually 
declines in force. 

The Explosive begins sounds abruptly, ending them 
suddenly and with very short Quantity. 

This division of Force has nothing to do with gov- 
erning the sense, but, on the contrary, is entirely 
suggested to the mind by the sentiments ; thus : 

Sentiments of Patriotism, Triumph, Exultation, and 
the like, require Full Force. Sentiments of Pathos, 
Caution, Secrecy, Fear, etc., in many of their forms 
require Subdued Force. Descriptions, Narrations, 
Conversations, etc., require Medium Force. These 
Forces pervade the entire subject taken as a whole, 
in each of the divisions. 

Medium Force is the basis from which we form the 
other degrees of Force. 

The cultivated " Natural Force " is the best Me- 
dium Force and is produced by a moderate and even 
contraction of the diaphragm, expelling the breath 
with sufficient power to give the proper character to 
the sound. 

Full Force is produced from Medium by increasing 
the force of the contraction of the diaphragm. 

Subdued Force is produced from Medium by de- 
creasing the force of the contraction of the diaphragm. 

Caution. 

Do not confound Pitch and Force. 

Bear in mind that they are entirely independent. 
Hence, a Subdued Force does not necessarily imply 
Low Pitch, nor Full Force a High Pitch. 

You may exercise all the degrees of Force on a 



74 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

single Pitch of any degree, and vice versa. The As- 
pirate Quality may be rendered as effectively, with 
reference to variety of Force, as any other Quality of 
Voice. 

For exercises in Standard Force, see Vocal Exer- 
cises, Nos. 1 and 2, and Force, in Artistic Elocution. 

Stress. 

Stress is a modification of Force applied to sounds. 

It gives character to the Feeling or Emotion to 
which it is applied. 

Its varieties are Radical, Median, Terminal, Thor- 
ough, Compound,* and Intermittent or Tremor. 

Radical Stress is an explosive effect upon the 
opening of the vowel sound, diminishing toward the 
vanish or end of the sound. 

It has two forms : t>, with long quantity, and D, 
with short quantity. 

It is applied in anger, rage, impetuous commands, 
emotions of a startling nature, etc. 

Median Stress corresponds to the Swell in the 
Vocal Exercises ; the sound opening in Subdued 
Force, gradually widening into Full Force, then 
easily receding to the Subdued. 

It is used in Pathos, Dignity, Coaxing, Delibera- 
tion, etc. 

Terminal Stress is an explosive force upon the close 
of the sound, beginning lightly and ending abruptly. 

It is used to express such Emotions as Sullen De- 
termination, Obstinacy, Defiance, Peevishness, etc. 



*The Compound Stress always involves a change of Pitch 
which is usually, if not always, a Compound Slide. 



DYNAMICS. 75 

Thorough Stress is an utterance of the sound with 
the Force bearing equally on all parts, strongly and 
firmly. 

It is applied to the expression of Vehement Emo- 
tions, as Courage, Boasting, Joy, certain forms of 
Fear, etc. 

Compound Stress is the application of sudden force 
to the opening and ending of the sound, passing 
lightly over the middle, thus : 0<l. It is a difficult 
stress to practice on vowel sounds. It is used to ex- 
press certain forms of Contempt, Surprise, etc. 

Intermittent Stress or Tremor is known in two di- 
visions — Joyous and Plaintive. 

The Joyous Tremor is akin to the Laugh, and is 
suggested by a pleasing mental condition. 

The Plaintive Tremor is the natural language of 
Grief, Sorrow, Weeping, and the like, and is used in 
pathetic reading and recitation. 

There is danger of too frequent employment of the 
Tremor in either of its phases. 

To be effective, any element of expression must be 
economically used. 

For exercises in Stress, see subject of Expressive 
Modulation, in Artistic Elocution. 

Intensity is a division of Dynamics relating to the 
power of the utterance, irrespective of its Force, or 
loudness and volume. It is that peculiar power that 
thrills us and charms us with its magic. It is a di- 
rect result of the most thorough study and sensitive- 
ness to mental emotion. Its practice always involves 
Feeling ; hence it more properly belongs to Dynam- 
ics as applied in Artistic Elocution. 



76 



OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



The fact of preparation being necessary to a prac- 
tice of it in reading, renders its introduction here 
requisite. Practice on lines, sentences, or stanzas 
which are characterized in sentiment by various de- 
grees of intensity of emotion. 



RATE AND QUANTITY. 77 



TIME. 

{Medium 
Kapid 
Slow 

(-Medium 
Quantity^ Long 
I Short 

Time in Elocution is divided into — 

Rate and Quantity. 

Rate governs the rapidity or slowness of utterance, 
and is the standard time of the paragraph or discourse. 

Rate, like Pitch and Force, is not susceptible of an 
arbitrary division into degrees. 

The degrees of Medium, Rapid, and Slow are 
deemed sufficient for present practice. The student 
must use his judgment in making the finer distinctions. 

Medium Rate is the basis from which we determine 
the other degrees, and accords with the rapidity of 
easy conversation, narration, unimpassioned descrip- 
tion, etc. 

Rapid Rate is a rapid utterance of the words of a 
sentence, as in terror, fear, or high excitement of any 
kind. 

Slow Rate is a deliberate delivery of thought, and 
is used in language of great dignity, solemnity, and 
grandeur. 

Exercise in these different degrees of Rate by read- 
ing alternately in each, short sentences or stanzas of 
poetry. 

Rapid Rate may be made useful in Articulation 
by reading as rapidly as you can articulate the ele- 



78 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

ments. For exercises in Rate, see Rate, in Artistic 
Elocntion. 

Quantity is the time occupied in the enunciation of 
sounds, and may be Medium, Long, or Short. 

Slow Rate and Long Quantity usually accompany 
each other, and Rapid Rate is coupled with Short 
Quantity. As an element of Modulation, Quantity is 
very important, and many passages may only be well 
read by proper management of this element. 

Action. 

Action is the second grand division of Mechanical 
Elocution. 

It embraces all methods of expression not requiring 
audibility. 

It appeals directly to the sense of sight ; and many 
emotions are more forcibly expressed by means of 
action than in any other manner. 

The first requirements in Action are grace and 
propriety. 

The exercises which bring about these qualifications 
most readily are purely mechanical, since perfection 
can only be reached by continued practice, with refer- 
ence particularly to the manner of the abstract effort. 

Action may be discussed in three divisions, viz : 

Position, Facial Effect, and Movement. 

Position, properly, includes the various address at- 
titudes in which the entire person is concerned. 

The speaking position, while it is one of the most 
studied effects, must give no evidence of study, ex- 
cept in that culminated form of art — naturalness. 



POSITION. 79 

Nothing can be more offensive to the sense of a 
discriminating audience than to see a speaker con- 
cerned, in any way, about his position upon appear- 
ing before them. A few comprehensive principles 
will give proficiency to the student who practices them 
persistently. 

There are two Primary and two Secondary Posi- 
tions, viz : Eight Front and Left Front, Eight 
Oblique and Left Oblique. 

The Eight Front Position 

is the one most frequently used, and is, perhaps, the 
most convenient to assume upon first appearance. 

Place the heel of the right foot three or four inches 
from the hollow of the left, which gives it the proper 
advancement. Allow the toes of both feet to incline 
a little outwardly. Eest the weight of the body on 
the left foot. 

Avoid studied exactness of distance between the 
feet or nicety of angle, and you have at once a pleas- 
ing and natural position. 

Left Front Position. 

This accords in form with the Eight Front Posi- 
tion, except that the relations of the feet are reversed, 
and the weight rests on the right foot. 

This position is not likely to be so frequently used 
as the Eight Front, yet it is none the less important, 
and must be brought to as great perfection as the 
other. 



80 outline of elocution. 

Right Oblique Position. 

Assume a Left Front Position. Throw the weight 
gently on the balls of the feet and swing grace- 
fully around to the right until your face assumes an 
oblique relation to the center of your audience. 

Settle easily into position, with the weight resting 
on the left foot. 

Left Oblique Position. 

Assume a Right Front Position. Rise, swing to 
left, and settle as before, with weight resting on the 
right foot. 

These maneuvers are very rarely described in books 
on Elocution, and a lack of knowledge of them leads 
the speaker into awkwardness in attempting their 
effects without previous practice, while restraint and 
school-boy stiffness is the consequence when they are 
ignored. 

They give us a proper position for addressing per- 
sons who are seated on either side of us, with the 
same grace that we do those directly in front. 

They must be very artistically accomplished; hence 
they require an immense amount of rehearsing in 
private. 

To recover a Front Position from either of the 
Oblique Positions, reverse the action until you are in 
the position desired. A tireless practice upon Position 
can not be too strongly insisted upon. It is in this 
that the speaker first gives room for criticism. 

The impression that he makes upon his audience in 
first appearing is very important. If good, it pre- 
disposes them in his favor, and vice versa. It gives 



POSITION. 81 

a graceful and agreeable address; and while it pleases 
it sets every body at ease. A feeling of satisfaction 
passes over the minds of the audience, and the victory 
gained hides a multitude of sins in expression. 

Shifting Position. 

While too much shifting about must be avoided, it 
is frequently necessary to change our position, and 
when done it should be well executed. 

It is difficult to acquire these shifting positions 
without the aid of an instructor, and a description is 
the most that can be given in print. 

Shifting by Advancing. 

When it is desired to advance a short distance from 
a Right Front Position, advance by throwing the 
weight on the right foot, advancing a pace with the 
left, preserving the angle of position, which places the 
foot in proper shape for the new stand; then bring 
the right into position. 

Manage the Left Front advance in the same manner. 

Shifting by Retreating 
from Right Front Position. 

Retreat with the right foot until a Left Front Po- 
sition is obtained, then with the left until a Right 
Front Position is the result, and so alternate. 

This movement also cleverly changes the Fronts, 
and may be used to give variety in that respect. 

It is injudicious to shift in this manner more than 
a pace, or single movement, at a time. Much shifting is 
pernicious, and the student is advised to study these, 
only to be sparingly used ; and while using them, bear 



82 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

in mind that repose is the last gained and most artis-. 
tic effect of the reader or speaker. 

" It takes years for the actor to acquire the art of 
standing still." 

Facial Effect. 

Facial Expression is highly important to the 
orator, actor, and public reader. 

It is as much a subject of study as any other de- 
partment of the subject of Elocution. It gives oppor- 
tunity and capacity for volumes of emotional expres- 
sion, without the utterance of a single sound. 

It requires abstract study in order to gain control 
of the muscles of all parts of the countenance. 

Many writers direct us to understand and feel what 
we say, and very little direction is necessary. 

This may serve as a rule for the innately gifted, who 
can at once control the passionate emotions of the 
mind, and even then it is unsafe. By neglecting the 
careful study of the facial expression of passion we are 
most likely to run into grimace, when we suppose our 
countenances are evincing tragical emotion. 

Since such is the danger, the student should practice 
this department before a mirror, until, by the force of 
assumed feeling, he can transfer his soul to his features. 
This is soon written, but it is the most difficult depart- 
ment of Mechanical Elocution, and requires, not only 
a muscular, but a will training. 

It requires a long time to become proficient, and 
the student should never attempt to " make faces " 
in an artistic effort, but by true feeling summon the 
educated muscles to perform their parts. 



simple fundamental gestures. 83 

Movement. 

Movement embraces all action of the body, in- 
cluding dramatic attitudes. 

It is extremely difficult to transmit this part of the 
subject by means of the printed page. 

To gain any commendable degree of perfection ab- 
solutely requires the living teacher. 

Movement is conveniently discussed under two 
heads : Simple and Compound. 

Simple Movements are those of grace or emphasis, 
and are performed principally by the hands and arms. 

It is not best to gesticulate throughout a selection 
until after some degree of mechanical excellence is 
reached, and even then the gestures should be discre- 
tionary, not arbitrary. 

The following system of fundamental gestures is 
comprehensively designed, and covers almost all the 
ground of Simple Movement. 

They are practiced abstractly, thus leaving the stu- 
dent's mind untrammeled by expression, so that his 
whole attention may be given to the Mechanical Effect 
\)f the work. 

Simple Fundamental Gestures. 

Downward Movement. — Position, naturally erect. 
Hands in position easily at the sides. 

Words of Command. — Eight hand; Downward 
Front. — Recover. Oblique. — Recover. Backward. 
— Recover. 

Left hand; Downward Front. — Recover. Oblique. 
— Recover. Backward. — Recover. 
6 



84 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Both hands ; Downward Front. — Eecover. Oblique. 
— Recover. Backward. — Recover. 

Horizontal Movement. — Observe the same move- 
ments as in Downward Movement, making the di- 
rection horizontal. 

Elevated Movement. — Same as above. Direction 
elevated. 

General Directions. — The Downward gestures should 
be made considerably below the horizontal line. The 
Horizontal gestures on a level with the shoulder, as 
indicated. 

The Elevated gestures are made considerably above 
the horizontal line. 

Front movements are made directly forward. 

Oblique movements are made obliquely from the 
front. 

Backward movements are made directly out from 
the side. Avoid throwing the arm too far back. 

The carriage, in delivery and recovery of the gest- 
ures, must be attended to here, for the purpose of the 
system is to impart ease and grace. 

The movements should almost entirely proceed from 
the shoulder (always in the above system); seldom bend 
the elbow. 

Let each movement describe an arc of a circle. 
Avoid angularity. To secure a natural disposition of 
the fingers, do not think of them. 

The movements should be practiced with the palms 
down as well as up. 

In recovering a gesture, be careful not to allow the 
arm to descend in a slovenly manner. 



COMPOUND MOVEMENT. 85 

It is just as important to recover a gesture grace- 
fully as it is to make it so. 

The following hints on recovery will be sufficient to 
the earnest student : 

Control the descent all the time. 

In palm-upward gestures, allow the hand to turn 
gracefully in the descent, and slowly return to the 
side in the manner most becoming from the position 
it may be in. 

In actual delivery, so conceal the recovery by the 
discourse that the audience will not notice how it was 
accomplished. 

In palm-downward gestures, the hand is already in 
position for recovery, and only the descent remains to 
be watched. Studiously avoid the appearance of study 
in the effect. 

To these exercises may be added any other move- 
ments of a like nature that may suggest themselves 
to the teacher or student. 

Compound Movement. 

Compound Movement embraces the more compli- 
cated forms of active emotional expression. The 
movements are compound, inasmuch as they include 
the simple hand and arm movements combined with 
Facial Effect, and frequently Dramatic Attitude on a 
single expression. 

The effects of such movements are thrilling. It is 
this division in which the great actor excels. 

These movements are the soul of Pantomime, and 
are of the utmost importance to all who appear before 
the public in any vocal capacity. 



86 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

These effects, to be telling, must be studied and 
combined in many varieties until the student shall 
have gained perfect control of the entire muscular and 
nervous organizations. 

It is impossible to give even a tolerably clear idea 
of these movements on paper. 

The following selections are cited to assist the 
student in comprehending the subject in point. These 
selections, and those of like character — in short, all 
dramatic selections — give ample scope for the practice 
of Compound or Dramatic Movement: "The Soldier's 
Bride/' " Hamlet's Address to the Ghost," "Mark 
Antony's Oration," " The Dagger Scene " from Mac- 
beth, "Christ Stilling the Tempest," "The Raven," 
etc. 

Do not act too much. The danger is that too much 
movement will be introduced, hence the caution. 

A few gestures, if well executed, are more com- 
mendable than a host of them under any circum- 
stances ; if badly performed, how much more obvious 
the force of this observation. Practice before a glass, 
for very few are able to judge of their own actions. 

The Eyes should never be fixed on one person or 
object, unless the person is directly addressed, or the 
attention be directed to the object. They should move 
easily around over the audience. 

When the hands are not in action keep them still. 
This seems simple, but it is most difficult of per- 
formance to the amateur. 

The right hand should be most frequently used, 
and both hands are required in the expression of 
warm emotions. 



COMPOUND MOVEMENT. 87 

Avoid many perpendicular or front movements; 
oblique motions are most graceful. Cultivate freedom 
of motion in the wrist-joint. 

The vitality of the Simple movements depends en- 
tirely upon this flexible, pliant condition of the wrist. 
Observe how lifeless and stiff a gesture would appear 
with no motion, or an awkward movement of that 
joint. 

Let the energy of the movement accord with the 
language, and bear in mind that the words and actions 
should accompany each other. 

Action should never come after the words, but it 
may, in a few cases, come before them in very pas- 
sionate characters where the passion seems to struggle 
for utterance in words. 

Do not apply more than one action to a single word 
or idea. 

Practice standing firmly for some time in different 
attitudes. 

With these directions and suggestions, it is the hope 
of the author that no one will have difficulty in ac- 
quiring considerable facility in this difficult but im- 
portant department of Mechanical Elocution, if cir- 
cumstances preclude the possibility of securing the 
services of an instructor. It is always imperatively 
necessary for the person who would become eminent 
to sacrifice any convenience for the best instruction. 



88 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

■ . • -■■ ';;.: - .. r ■ : : - : I 

ARTISTIC ELOCUTION. 

. In discussing the sources of power in Elocution, a 
writer of great merit remarks that, " The most im- 
portant lesson which the student has to learn in de- 
livering the sentiments of others, is to fill his mind 
with them — to meditate upon them until he has made 
them thoroughly his own ; for until he has learned to 
do this, and has thereby fired his own heart, he can 
not speak; and when he has learned this he has already 
ceased to be a tyro, and has begun to be a master in 
his art."* 

All the mentality brought to bear upon the subject 
thus far in our discussion of it has related only to the 
organic processes which tend to give the student ready 
control of all possible uses of the voice and person. 

These uses have now become his property, and he 
has them, like the merchant has his wares, stored away, 
to be taken down and used when called for. He is 
now ready to introduce into the study higher uses of 
the mind, and his work is now expected to produce 
a different and more elevated class of effects — the 
artistic. 

This department of the art requires ceaseless study, 
and can only be satisfactorily acquired by the mental 
regime quoted at the opening of this division. 

Artistic Elocution is divided into two branches: 
Simple and Complex. 

Simple Artistic Elocution is employed in the rendi- 



*Prof.J. H. Mcllvaine. 






EASE OF BEARING^ 89 

tion of all composition of a conversational or un- 
impassioned character, in which the feeling is sym- 
pathetic rather than emotional. 

The first element entering into such execution is 
Ease of Bearing. 

This element means much, and embraces the thou- 
sand little graces that go toward giving what is recog- 
nized as an agreeable address. 

To be easy you must be yourself, for without self- 
control the greatest excellence in conception and theo- 
retical knowledge will avail you nothing. 

From the moment a reader or speaker appears in 
view of an audience until he is seated after closing 
his performance, he must preserve this equanimity. , 

As was remarked in connection with Position, here 
is where he first gives his auditors opportunity to judge 
of his capability. His study requires a critical ob- 
servation of the manner of good speakers and readers 
who are complimented on their pleasing address. 

The public taste must be studied upon a high plane, 
and its requirements satisfied, and the way is open for 
a successful effort. 

Should the performer fail to please, by being stiff, 
awkward, or conventional, the die is cast against him 
in popular opinion, and no amount of artistic acumen 
in the management of vocal effects will serve to over- 
come the chill thrown over an audience by a re- 
strained carriage during a performance. In the fol- 
lowing directions it is hoped that the student will 
find the cue to. his lines in Ease of Bearing. 

Never allow yourself to appear excited, but walk 
toward the spot you expect to occupy, with a some- 



90 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

what slower step than you ordinarily use — a firm, 
natural, not arrogant, carriage of body. Take posi- 
tion without seeming to do so. 

Take time for every thing. Do not begin to speak 
the instant you have settled into position, but look 
leisurely about over your audience a moment until 
you are calm. 

Avoid formality in any thing. Keep the head well 
up, and in bowing do not incline the head so that 
you shall not be able to see the entire audience. 

There are many methods of bowing which are 
graceful, but a very slight inclination of the head 
alone is sufficient to express profound respect. Never 
avert the face, but keep a good full front to the au- 
dience. 

The Hands are about the most unruly members 
while we are reading or speaking. 

When not required in action, keep them easily in 
position at the sides. 

The Feet are prone to shift about also, a thing in 
which they must be curbed, for fear they make us ap- 
pear ridiculous. 

When it is necessary to change their position, do 
so gracefully, but not frequently, in simple artistic 
work. 

If you should be reading from a book, hold it 
about breast high, in the left hand, with the thumb 
and little finger within and the other fingers beneath 
the book. To give a natural variety the right hand 
may be lightly rested upon the edge of the book, oc- 
casionally, in readiness to turn the leaves. 

If your performance is in manuscript, hold it in 



EXPRESSIVE MODULATION. 91 

the left hand also, but on the left hand edge, with 
only the thumb on the upper surface, while the fingers 
are spread upon the under surface to support the 
paper. The right hand is used to turn the pages, as 
in the case of a book, only that the page turns out- 
ward instead of to the left. 

Note. — The above directions for holding manuscript presupposes 
that the paper is written only on one side, and opens at the end 
next the person. The attention of the students of colleges and 
seminaries is specially called to the above instructions. A little 
attention, given in time, will redeem many a commencement essay. 

The manuscript of a lecture, if read, should be 
written on half sheets, on one side of the paper, reg- 
ularly numbered at the top from 1 upward. 

In reading, arrange your manuscript properly with 
reference to the pages, and lay them on the stand be- 
fore you. When you have finished the first page, 
with the right hand lift it and lay it with the written 
surface down ; follow with the remaining pages in 
order, and when you are through your manuscript 
will be all in order for reading without re-arrangement. 

Expressive Modulation. 

When a voice is monotonous in any particular, it 
is said to lack modulation. 

The importance of this element will be readily ap- 
preciated when it is remembered that it requires 
greater flexibility and more delicate management of 
the voice in speaking than in singing. This arises 
from the fact that while the singer has definite periods 
of time for the dwelling of the voice on each note, 
which is indicated to the eye by the note itself, the 



92 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

speaking voice has no such exactness and continually 
varies, without reference to standard of time. 

Expressive Modulation embraces Quality, Pitch, Dy- 
namics, Time, and Pause. 

The difference between Abstract and Expressive 
Modulation is that in the former each element is 
studied separately, while in the latter they must be 
studied in their connected relation. Illustration : — 
When we are studying Abstract Quality of Voice we 
need have no particular thought of Pitch and Force, 
while Expressive Quality is regarded as only one of 
several component elements which demands its share 
of attention at the same instant that the mind is 
equally exercised in giving proper prominence to the 
other elements, i. e., Pitch, Force, etc. 

The most efficient exercise for training the mind to 
act properly, in this department, is the appended 



Table of Modulation. 




Pitch. Force. 


Kate. 


High. Full. 


Rapid. 


Medium. Medium. 


Medium. 


Low. Subdued. 


Slow. 



Explanation : — To use this table, select a sentence 
that runs smoothly, as "Over the hill the farm-boy 
goes," and begin in any Quality you wish to practice. 
First practice in Pitch, then Force, and finally Rate, 
always beginning with Medium. 

Some one should point to the table, and whatever 
the pointer designates, give that, thus: if the in- 
structor points out Medium Pitch, recite the sentence 
in that pitch, until he points, say, to High Pitch, when 
you change to that pitch, etc. 



EXPRESSIVE MODULATION. 93 

Pass over the entire table in this manner and a 
great number of times, until you readily make the 
transitions from one to another. You are now ready 
for the more complicated use of the table. 

Start on Medium all through which means Medium 
Pitch, Force, and Rate, in any Quality you choose. 

The teacher then points to High Pitch, when the 
student changes the Pitch alone, holding the Medium 
in Force and Rate. The teacher then points out Sub- 
dued Force; the student retains High Pitch and Me- 
dium Rate, and changes from Medium to Subdued 
force. The pointer removes to Rapid Rate ; the stu- 
dent retains High Pitch and Subdued Force, and 
changes from Medium to Rapid Rate. The table will 
then stand thus : 



Pitch. 


Force. 


Kate. 


High.^^ 
Medium. "*"•-. 

Low. 


Full. 
Medium. 
Subdued. 


Eapid. 

Medium. 

Slow. 



This table is susceptible of a very great number 
of changes or orders of exercise, which gives the 
student unlimited opportunity for practice. 

The exercises which follow may be used in con- 
nection with the definitions of the various topics 
under the heads they are designed to illustrate. It 
is thought advisable, however, to arrange them un- 
der the department of Artistic Elocution, since they 
so closely apply to the Table of Modulation given 
above, and which is purely artistic in its application 
to our expression. 

Do not associate arbitrary degrees with any one of 
the divisions in the Table, but bear in mind that the 



94 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

boundaries of each are indefinite and subject to many 
shades of difference ; i. e., a high pitch is not always 
the highest pitch of the voice, but ranges from the 
highest that may be termed medium to the highest 
our voices are capable of producing. The ear must 
be our monitor in giving outline to our conception 
of proprieties in modulation. From this view of the 
case it will be perceived the harmony of our elocu- 
tionary efforts depends entirely upon the correctness 
of our " musical ear/' or perception of the concord 
of sounds. 

Exercises in Several Varieties of 
Medium Pitch. 

1. I had occasion, a few weeks since, to take the early train 
from Providence to Boston, and for this purpose rose at two 
o'clock in the morning. Every thing around was wrapt in dark- 
ness and hushed in silence, broken only by what seemed, at that 
hour, the unearthly clank and rush of the train. 

2. Somewhat back from the village street 
Stands the old-fashioned country-seat; 
Across its antique portico 

Tall poplar trees their shadows throw; 
And from its station in the hall 
An ancient time-piece says to all : 
" Forever — never ! 

Never — forever ! " 

3. Up from the meadows rich with corn, 
Clear in the cool September morn, 
The clustered spires of Frederick stand, 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 

4. Republican institutions have been vindicated in this experi- 
ence as they never were before God, I think, has said 

by this event to all nations of the earth : "Republican liberty, based 
upon true Christianity, is firm as the foundation of the globe." 



VARIETIES OF HIGH PITCH. 95 



Varieties of High Pitch. 

1. See ! see ! The dense crowd quivers 

Through all its lengthy line 
As the boy beside the portal 

Hastens forth to give the sign ! 
With his little hands uplifted, 

Breezes dallying with his hair, — 
Hark ! with deep, clear intonation, 
s Breaks his young voice on the air. 
King out the old, ring in the new ; 

Bing, happy bells, across the snow ; 
The year is going, — let him go ; 

Bing out the false, ring in the true. 

3. He told of many a warrior feat, 

But brightly flashed his eye 
When up he sprung from his lowly seat 

And raised his proud voice high — 
Sung gallantly and fearlessly 

Of the Corsic Eagle's flight, 
For 't was the time when Napoleon 
Had cut his way to an iron throne, 

And the steel was the surest right. 

4. "Forward, the Light Brigade! 

Charge for the guns ! " he said. 

5. The apple 's left the stripling's head ; 
Ha ! ha ! 't is cleft ! And so it was, 

And Tell was free ! 

Varieties of Low Pitch. 

1. Most potent, grave, and reverend seigniors ; 

My very noble and approved good masters ; 
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter 
'Tis most true ; true, I have married her ; 
The very head and front of my offending 
Hath this extent; no more. 
2. Farewell, beloved child ! The bright, eternal doors have 
closed after thee ; we shall see thy sweet face no more. Oh, woe 



96 : OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

for them who watched thy entrance into heaven, when they shall 
wake and find only the cold, gray sky of daily life, and thou gone 
forever ! 

3. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now 
Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er 

The still and pulseless world. 

4. List ! list ! oh, list !— 

If thou didst ever thy dear father love. 

Varieties of Medium Foece. 

1. Morning again breaks through the gates of heaven, 
And shakes her jeweled kirtle on the sky, 

Heavy with rosy gold. 

Aside are driven 
The vassal clouds, which bow as she draws nigh, 
And catch her scattered gems of orient dye — 
The pearled ruby which her pathway strews ; 
Argent and amber now thrown useless by; 
The uncolored clouds wear what she doth refuse, 
For only once does Morn her sun-dyed garments use. 

2. Two brown heads with tossing curls, 
Red lips shutting over pearls, 
Bare feet white and wet with dew, 
Two eyes black and two eyes blue, 
Little boy and girl were they ; 
Katie Lee and Wille Gray. 

3. My ancestors came from old Sparta, and settled among the 
vine-clad hills and citron groves of Cyrasella. My early life ran 
quiet as the brooks by which I sported ; and when at noon, I gath- 
ered the sheep beneath the shade and played upon the shepherd's 
flute, there was a friend, the son of a neighbor, to join me in the 
pastime. We led our flocks to the same pasture, and partook to- 
gether our rustic meal. 

4. I thought I had killed her. I sprinkled water on her face ; 
I went down on my knees ; I plucked at my hair ; I implored her 
forgiveness ; I besought her to look up ; I ravaged Miss Mill's 
work-box for a smelling-bottle, and in my agony of mind, ap- 



VAEIETIES OF SUBDUED FORCE. 97 

plied an ivory needle-case instead, and dropped all the needles 
over Dora. 

Varieties of Full Force. 

1. My lords, I am amazed ; yes, my lords, I am amazed at His 
Grace's speech. The noble duke can not look before him, behind 
him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer who 
owes his seat in this House to his successful exertions in the pro- 
fession to which I belong. 

2. Speak, coward, if thou hast a tongue; 
Tell why with hellish art you slew a man. 

3. And the foremost said, " Behold me ! 

I am Famine — Buk-a-daw-in ! " 
And the other said ; " Behold me ! 
I am Fever — Ah-kos-e-win ! " 

4. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, 
Straining upon the start. The game 's afoot ; 
Follow your spirits, and, upon this charge, 

Cry, — Heaven for Harry ! England ! and St. George ! 



Varieties of Subdued Force. 

1. She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, noble Nell was dead. 
Her little bird — a poor slight thing the pressure of a finger would 
have crushed — was stirring nimbly in its cage; and the strong 
heart of its child-mistress was mute and motionless forever. 

2. " Jo, can you say what I say ? " 

"I'll say anything as you say, sir, for I knows it's good." 

" Our Father." 

" Our Father ! — Yes, that 's very good, sir." 

" Which art in Heaven." 

" Art in Heaven ! — Is the light a-comin', sir ? " 

" It is close at hand. — Hallowed be thy name." 

" Hallowed — be — thy — name ! " 

The light has come upon the dark, benighted way. Dead. 

3. Please, Desus, 'et Santa Taus turn down to-night 
And b'ing us some p'esents before it is light. 



98 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

I want he should div' me a nice 'ittle s'ed 
With bright shinin' 'unners, and all painted red ; 
A box full of tandy, a book, and a toy, — 
Amen, — and then, Desus, I '11 be a dood boy. 

4. Well, wife, I 've found the model church. I worshiped there 
to-day ; 
It made me think of good old times before my hairs were 

• gray. 
The meetin'-house was fixed up more than they were years 

ago; 
But then I felt, when I went in, it was n't built for show. 

Varieties of Medium Eate. 

1. Honor is the subject of my story. 

I can not tell what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but, for my single self, 
I had as lief not be as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 

2. Hi ! Har*y Holly ! Halt —and tell 

A fellow just a thing or two; 
You 've had a furlough — been to see 
How all the folks in Jersey do. 

3. "John," said I, "that baggage is going over at one load, 
sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish. I '11 make the at- 
tempt, swamp or no swamp. My life is assured against accidents 
by fire, water, and mud ; so here goes. What 's life to glory ! " I 
exclaimed as I seized the pork-bag and dragged it from under the 
boat. " Stand by and see me put my armor on." 

4. Of all the bonny buds that blow in bright or cloudy weather, 
Of all the flowers that come and go the whole twelve months 

together, 
This little purple pansy brings thoughts of the sweetest, sad- 
dest things. 

Varieties of Eapid Eate. 

1. But there is a road from Winchester town, 
A good, broad highway leading down : 



VARIETIES OF SLOW RATE. 99 

And there through the flash of the morning light, 

A steed as black as the steeds of night, 

Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight ; 

As if he knew the terrible need, 

He stretched away with the utmost speed ; 

Hills rose and fell ; but his heart was gay, 

With Sheridan fifteen miles away. 

2. And there was mounting in hot haste ; 

The steed, the must'ring squadron, and the clatt'ring car 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed 
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war. 

3. Up with your ladders ! Quick ! 't is but a chance — 
Behold how fast the roaring flames advance ! 
Quick ! quick ! brave spirits, to his rescue fly. 

Up ! up ! by heaven, this hero must not die ! 

4. Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast 
you pass that point ! Up with the helm ! Now turn ! Pull hard ! 
Quick ! quick ! quick ! pull for your lives — pull till the blood starts 
from your nostrils and the veins stand out, like whip-cords, upon 
your brow ! Set the mast in the socket ! Hoist the sail ! Ah ! ah I 
it is too late ! Shrieking, howling, blaspheming, — over they go. 

Varieties of Slow Rate. 

1. With deep affection and recollection 

I often think of those Shandon bells, 
Whose sounds so wild, would in the days of childhood, 
Fling 'round my cradle their magic spells. 

2. I am thy father's spirit; 

Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, 
And, for the day, confined to fast in fires, 
Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, 
Are burnt and purged away. 

3. O ever dear and venerated shade of my departed father, look 
down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your suffering son and see 
if I have even for a moment deviated from those principles of mo- 
rality and patriotism which it was your care to instill into my 
youthful mind, and for which I am now to offer up my life. 

7 



100 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

4. O thou Eternal One ! whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide ; 
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight; 
Thou only God ! There is no God beside. 

Major Rising Slides. 

1. Are you going to-da'y? May I come i'n? 

2. Is this the part of wi'se men engaged in a great and arduous 
struggle for liberty 7 ? Are we disposed to be of the number of 
those who, having eyes, see 7 not, and, having ears, he'ar not the 
things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? 

3. Is not the consciousness of doing go'od a sufficient reward? 

4. Didst thou not hear a noi'se? Did not you spe / ak? 

Minor Rising Slides. 

1. O my lord, 
Must I then le*ave you? Must I needs forego 
So good, so noble, and so true a master? 

2. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
To throw perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue 

Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, 

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess. 

3. What is time? The shadow on the dial, — the striking of 
the clock, — the running of the sand, — day and night, — summer 
and winter, — months, years, centuries ! 

Minor Falling Slides. 

1. The affrighted band fly in their frenzy to their sleeping Lord, 
and in despair shriek for aid: — " We perish, Master! Save usl 
Save us, Lord!" 

2. I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, 
I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, 
And, turning from the nursery window, 
Drew a long, long sigh and wept 

A last adi&u. 



MEDIAN STRESS. 101 

3. I saw her bright reflection 
In the waters under me, 
Like a golden goblet, falling, 
And sinking into the sea. 

Compound Slides. 

1. Hath a d5g money ? Is it possible 

A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? 

2. Rich in a dozen paltry villages, strong in some hundred spear- 
men ; only great in that strange spell — a name. 

3. Thou little valiant, great in villainy — 
Thou, ever strong upon the stronger side — 
Thou wear a lion's hide ! Doff it for shame, 
And hang a calf-skin on those recreant limbs. 

4. Ah, sir, he has been very unfortunate, not extravagant. Lit- 
tle odds, I fancy, I never was unfortunate. 

Exercises in Eadical Stress. 

1. Arm ! arm ! It is — it is the cannon's opening roar I 

2. To arms ! They come — the Greek ! the Greek ! 

3. Strike — till the last armed foe expires ! 
Strike for your altars and your fires ! 
Strike for the green graves of your sires, 
God, and your native land ! 

4. Revenge ! About ! — seek ! — burn ! — fire ! — kill ! — slay ! Let 
not a traitor live ! 

5. Ha! ha I 'tis cleft! And so it was, 
And Tell was free ! 

Median Stress. 

1. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean — roll ! 
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. 

2. Oh, that those lips had language ! Life has passed 
With me but roughly since I heard thee last. 



102 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead, 
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed? 
Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son, 
Wretch even then, — life's journey just begun ? 
Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss ; 
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss. 
Ah, that maternal smile ! it answers, " Yes ! " 

3. To die, — to sleep ; 

To sleep ! perchance to dream ; — ay, there 's the rub ; 
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, 
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 
Mttst give us pawse. 

4. Come over, come over the river to me, 

If ye are my laddie, bold Charlie Machree. 

Terminal Stress. 

1. Where is my brother? 
Am I my brother's keeper ? 

2. I ne'er will ask for quarter, and I ne'er will be your slave! 
The shackles ne'er again shall bind the arm that now is free ! 

3. Yes, it is worth talking of ! But that 's how you always try 
to put me down. You fly into a rage, and then if I only try to 
speak, you won't hear me. 

4. But here I stand and scoff you ! here I fling 
Hatred and full defiance in your face ! 

Your consul 's merciful : — for this, all thanks : — 
He dares not touch a hair of Catiline ! 

Thorough Stress. 

1. Hang out our banners on the outward walls ; 

The cry is still, " They come." Our castle's strength 

Will laugh a siege to sc5rn. 
2. When slaves like thee are tasked, 

It is my will. 
3. Now, my brave lads — now we are free indeed. 

I have a whole host in this single arm ! 

Death or liberty ! We shall not leave a man of them alive. 



INTERMITTENT STRESS OR TREMOR. 103 

4. Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned ? 
Bring with thee airs from heaven 
Or blasts from hell ? Be thy intent wicked 
Or charitable ? Thou com'st in such a questionable shape 
That I will speak to thee. 

Compound Stress. 

1. Who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplica- 
ble dumb-show and noise. 

2. " Out on him ! " quoth false Sextus ; 
" Will not the villain drown? " 

3. "'Tis green — 'tis green, sir, I assure ye." 

" Green ! " cries the other, in a fury ; " why, sir, d'ye think I've 
lost my eyes ? " 

4. Gone to be married ! Gone to swear a peace ! 
It is not so ; thou hast mis-spoke — mis-heard. 
Be well advised : tell o'er thy tale again. 

It can not be : thou dost but say 't is so. 

Intermittent Stress or Tremor. 
Plaintive Tremor. 

1. Could I foresee the tender bloom 
Of pansies round a little tomb? 

2. She 's safe up there : 
And when His hand deals other strokes, 
She '11 stand by Heaven's gate, I know, 
And wait to welcome in our folks. 

3. My lids have long been dry, Tom, 

But tears came to my eyes ; 
I thought of her I loved so well, 

Those early broken ties ; 
I visited the old church-yard, 

And took some flowers to strew 
Upon the graves of those we loved 

Some forty years ago. 



104 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



Joyous Tremor. 

1. A fool, a fool — I met a fool i' the forest • 
A motley fool, a miserable varlet : 

As I do live by food, I met a fool, 

Who laid him down and basked in the sun. 

2. I am going up to that world of light, 

And away from the hunger and storm so wild ; 
I am sure I shall then be somebody's child. 

Note. — The application of stress is always upon the vowel 
sounds. Students should be thoroughly capable of giving the 
stresses separately upon the vowels. 



GRAMMATICAL PAUSE. 105 

PAUSE. 

In pause we have one of the strongest elements 
of power in vocal expression either in speaking or 
reading. 

This department of Elocution is purely artistic, 
and requires very close attention. 

Pauses are of two kinds, — Grammatical and Rhe- 
torical. 

Grammatical Pauses. 

Grammatical pauses are those indicated to the eye 
by the punctuation marks throughout the text. They 
have reference to the construction of the sentence 
rather than to pointing out fine expressions of feeling. 

The sense may be very accurately rendered by 
properly applying the grammatical pauses alone when 
properly arranged in the text ; but such reading will 
not long interest an audience, unless it be the real 
importance of the subject or natural charm of the 
matter which claims attention. It requires no feel- 
ing to read by strict observance of these pauses, and 
the effect is more mechanical than artistic. 

Whenever set rules are to be observed as in Gram- 
matical pauses, there can not fail to be a mechanical 
stiffness and precision in the rendition. 

It is deemed unnecessary to amplify this subject 
further in a work of this nature, as any English 
grammar or orthographical work will fully explain 
the pauses of this character and their uses in com- 
position. 

They are the chief guide to pause as treated in 



106 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

primary readers, and to this fact may be attributed 
largely the artificial manner of reading so readily ac- 
quired by the pupils in our schools. 

Rhetorical Pauses. 

Rhetorical pauses are the pauses of sense. They 
are the offspring of feeling, and can not be properly 
applied without it. 

The effect on the voice may be either a rising or 
falling slide, or that effect known to elocutionists as 
Suspensive Quantity, in which the highest type of 
pause is produced, and in which the pitch of the 
voice does not change. The use of the slides has 
been so far discussed under the proper head as to 
render further explanation unnecessary in this con- 
nection. 

Suspensive quantity is, par excellence, a pause. In 
giving this pause the voice is not allowed to change 
its pitch. The sentence in which it occurs should 
be given as if no pause was expected ; and upon the 
proper word the utterance is suspended, while a 
change of pitch generally marks the following word 
or connection. This pitch is generally lower than 
that which precedes the pause. 

The length of this pause is determined by the char- 
acter of the sentiment and while the voice is silent, 
the action, especially facial expression, may continue 
to express volumes of emotion. The great tragedi- 
ans, practically, seem best acquainted with the value 
of this pause, and if students will take the trouble 
to gain control of it in their efforts, they will find it 
a powerful auxiliary. 






RHETORICAL PAUSES. 107 

It does not confine itself to a single kind of com- 
position, but is found necessary in the just rendition 
of almost every description of thought. 

Care must be exercised that this be not overdone, 
for a too frequent use of any single element of power 
in a discourse produces monotony and an opposite 
effect upon the mind to that which was designed. 

Suspensive quantity always occurs before the word 
or thought which it emphasizes; while those which 
are produced with a slide of the voice may occur 
either before or after the word which they empha- 
size. 

It frequently occurs that Rhetorical and Grammat- 
ical pauses coincide; but more frequently they are 
independent of each other, in which case there is no 
other mark to point out the position of the former 
than that suggested by our conception of the senti- 
ment. When they coincide, the pause is usually in- 
dicated by a dash. A wrong conception of pause is, 
that it always implies a downward slide. This is 
erroneous, and leads the reader into a thousand pit- 
falls of expressive error. 

Examples in Rhetorical Pause. 

1. There, in his dark, carved, oaken chair, old Eudiger sat 

dead! 

2. There comes a still, small voice and whispers Peace ! 

3. We are slaves ! The bright sun rises to his course— and 

lights a race of slaves. 

4. Speak the speech — I pray you— as I pronounced it to you 

trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it — as many of our 

players do — I had as lief— the town-crier — spoke my lines. Nor 



108 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

do not saw the air too much with your hand — thus — but use all 

gently for in the very torrent — tempest — and — as I may say — 

whirlwind of your passion — you must acquire and beget a tem- 
perance that may give it smoothness. Oh ! it offends me to the 

soul — to hear a robustious — periwig-pated fellow — tear a passion 

to tatters — to very rags to split the ears of the groundlings 

who — for the most part — are capable of nothing but inexplicable 

dumb-show and noise. 1 would have such a fellow whipped for 

o'erdoing Termagant. Pray you — avoid it. Be not too tame 

— neither ; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the 

action to the word the word to the action -with this special 

observance that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; 

for any thing so overdone — is from the purpose of playing whose 

end both at the first — and now was and is to hold — 

as 'twere — the mirror up to nature; to show Virtue — her own 

feature; Scorn — her own image; and the very age and body 

of the time — his form and pressure. Now this overdone — or 

come tardy off though it make the unskillful laugh can not 

but make the judicious — grieve the censure of which — one must 

— in your allowance — o'erweigh a whole theater of others. 

Oh ! there be players — that I have seen play — and heard others 

praise — and that highly not to speak it profanely that — 

neither having the accent of Christians — nor the gait of Christian 

— pagan — nor man have so strutted and bellowed — that I have 

thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men — and not 
made them well they imitated humanity so abominably. 

Note. — The length of the pause is indicated by the length of 
the dashes. 

Examples 1 and 2 illustrate suspensive Quantity. 



FEELING. 109 

FEELING. 

This element of Simple Artistic Elocution may be 
considered in three divisions, or steps — viz : 
Comprehension — of the sentiment ; 
Sympathy — with it; 
Adaptation— to it. 

To comprehend the sentiment requires study, — ' 

First, — Of the language as such ; 

Second, — Of the thought embodied in it ; 

Third, — Of the most effective methods of express- 
ing the latent thought. 

To sympathize with it requires, — 

First, — An easy familiarity with the lines ; 

Second, — A perfect comprehension of the idea ; 

Third, — A play of the imagination. 

Adaptation to the requirements of the thought ne- 
cessitates, — 

First, — A clear conception of what we wish to do ; 

Second, — A well-defined reflection of our concep- 
tion, in the performance; 

Third, — The capability of assuming the identity of 
the character. 

The best way to realize these mental conditions is 
to follow the suggestion quoted at the opening of 
this chapter. Without such careful study an effort 
may be very clever as a mechanical effect, but will 
lack that which peculiarly renders it artistic. 

It will resemble a piece of music which is executed 
with mathematical precision, and lacks the vitality 
of soul. It will be a frame without the picture. In 



110 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

short, it will lack the distinctive mark of the master 
in word-painting. 

It must be borne in mind that principles are not 
to be implicitly relied upon for artistic effect. When 
you have passed beyond the mechanical processes 
which make you masters of your own powers the 
element of Feeling enters into the expression, with- 
out which the best efforts under any circumstances 
must always be mechanical. We can not rely solely 
upon feeling, either, for unless our voices and bodies 
are cultivated and placed at the disposal of the will, 
feeling will but lamely support us in the moment of 
requirement. 

The action of the mind is more varied and compli- 
cated in reading or speaking than in any other mental 
effort. This will be perceived in reviewing the long 
array of requirements to enable us to render the sim- 
plest thought artistically; and it will appear more 
forcibly when it is remembered that each principle 
requires an independent mental effort, and that the 
combined result must be a simultaneous action of all 
these functions of the mind. 

Complex Artistic Elocution. 

Complex Artistic Elocution is the highest type- of 
vocal expression in speech. It combines all the ele- 
ments of Simple Artistic Elocution with Passion. 

Passion is mental emotion. It differs from Feeling 
in the simple expression in the fact that it represents 
the most vehement and deepest well-springs of the 
soul. Mental Emotion is susceptible of infinite di- 
visibility, but for the practice of the student in the 



COMPLEX AETISTIC ELOCUTION. J 11 

early stages of the study which it is the province of 
this work to direct, it is not thought advisable to 
multiply too greatly the varieties. The expression 
of emotion is found in Tragedy, Comedy, and Pathos. 

Tragedy embraces the heavier emotions of the 
mind, among which are numbered Love, Envy, Jeal- 
ousy, Fear, Remorse, Revenge, Hate, Rage, Anger, 
Avarice, Ambition, Despair, Melancholy, Scorn, De- 
fiance, etc. 

Comedy gives expression to the lighter emotions, 
among which we classify Love, Pride, Selfishness, 
Deceit, Vanity, Terror, Humor, Mirth, Conceit, Sar- 
casm, Wit, Obstinacy, Wonder, Amazement, Cun- 
ning, etc. 

Pathos gives expression to the highest grade of 
emotions, leading among which we find Love, Sym- 
pathy, Pity, Generosity, Forgiveness, Sorrow, Dis- 
appointment, Patience, Mercy, Charity, Grief, De- 
spondency, Discouragement, Reverence, Adoration, 
etc. 

It is unnecessary in this connection to enter into 
a philosophical analysis of the Passions. The clas- 
sification is made to assist the student in analyzing 
the sentiments which he may be called upon to de- 
liver, and to give them a proper and intelligent ex- 
pression as the result of faithful study and a careful 
application of the principles which govern the effect- 
ive expression of thought. 



112 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



SHORT ESSAYS FOR STUDENTS. 

Under this head will be found short discussions of 
unclassified subjects which it is thought should be 
presented to the attention of the seeker after elocu- 
tionary information. The topical method of presen- 
tation has been followed in these discussions, as 
being the best adapted to didactic composition. 

I. Emphasis 

The application of the term emphasis, in most text- 
books on Elocution, is altogether too narrow to give 
the student any thing like a just conception of its 
importance or true nature. 

The principle of Emphasis is the most compre- 
hensive of all the elements of reading or speaking* 
Indeed, it may be said that it is not an element, but 
rather a blending of elements. 

Emphasis properly applied means a correct use and 
application of all the component elements of speech. 
Any change whatever in modulation emphasizes the 
expression. This term is nearly universally confused 
with stress, which is only a single method of empha- 
sizing. 

Definition. — Emphasis is calling particular atten- 
tion to a word or idea. 

It consists in any vocal effect which brings any 
word or idea into prominent notice — as change of 
pitch, force, rate, quantity, slide, or stress; pauses 
before or after important words, etc. 

Emphasis must be handled very delicately, and 



PROJECTION OF TONE. 113 

we must avoid multiplying too greatly the emphatic 
words in a discourse, lest we become bombastic. 

It is impossible to lay down rules which would be 
of any material service in the application of Empha- 
sis. If we are thoroughly conversant with Mechan- 
ical Elocution, and able to appreciate the Artistic, 
our emphasis will be correct, inasmuch as the degree 
of the excellence depends upon our correctness in the 
application of principles. 

II. Projection of Tone, or Penetration. 

The peculiar quality of the voice which enables us 
to be heard at considerable distances without seem- 
ing exertion on the part of the speaker, is called 
Projection of Tone, or Penetration. 

It is important to all who study the nature and 
uses of the voice. The conditions of its acquirement 
are a careful study of force, articulation, and breath- 
ing, coupled with a great amount of special practice 
to the purpose. Select some point at quite a distance 
from you — say the most distant point in a hall or a 
certain distance in the open air; then make yourself 
heard at that point without extraordinary exertion. 
To test the results, station some one there to listen. 
If you are not easily heard, articulate more distinctly 
in the next effort; or increase the force and reduce 
the rate without changing the pitch, which should be 
medium. Continue this practice until you double or 
treble the penetrating power of the voice. 

The practice will be serviceable in addressing large 
assemblies, in making you distinctly heard at remote 
parts of the hall without seeming boisterous to those 



114 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

near the platform. It also gives character and sta- 
bility to the voice in all its uses, and should not be 
neglected by any student of Elocution. 

III. Primary Teaching. 

The teacher who takes the little boys and girls in 
the first stages of education has a laost responsible 
duty. He is entirely responsible for the future elo- 
cution of the little ones. It require- absolute genius 
to guide the young mind into the intricacies of the 
proper expression of printed thoughts. There is but 
little success in that direction as yet, and, from the 
developments of the primary schools, it seems that 
something is wrong about the system employed. 
Either the books are wrong, or the teachers are in- 
competent, or the children automatic, or else the 
primary school is not the place to teach reading. 

Before we may hope to accomplish what we de- 
sire, special effort must be made to put inventive 
genius into the primary schools. People of the high- 
est attainments, well versed in the youthful nature, 
and of indomitable perseverance. Such persons may 
not be had without money. Money will procure 
them. In the first place, a child should begin at 
school. Whatever he learns at home only makes 
the duty of the teacher more difficult. 

The primary school is the place to teach the al- 
phabet, and but little else should be required of the 
lowest grade. With the alphabet should be associ- 
ated ideas, shapes and words, and, last of all, expres- 
sions within the comprehension of the little mind. 

These expressions should be elicited from the pu- 



PRIMARY TEACHING. 115 

pil himself by inductive questioning. Definite ideas 
should be attached to all expressions, even to minu- 
tiae, which should be drawn from the imagination of 
the pupil, teaching him to associate the thought with 
the print, and exciting an activity of the imagination. 

New words and ideas should follow each other as 
rapidly as mastery of the foregoing ones is evident. 
The blackboard and charts should be the only text- 
books, while drawings and engravings should be pro- 
fuse. 

The pronunciation of words at sight should be made 
a matter of first importance. Let the spelling come 
in a grade higher, only be careful at present that the 
children pronounce each word at sight. 

In mental picturing or associate realities the fol- 
lowing example will serve as an illustration : 

The teacher prints in due course the sentence, " Will 
has a dog." The teacher asks what is meant by 
""Will." He will likely receive the answer that 
u Will " is a boy, or a boy's name, or some such 
reply. Then ask how large the boy is you think of 
as " Will ; " his clothing is what color ? etc. Then 
the dog is made the subject of inquiry, and a fund, 
of information is elicited about him. This is con- 
tinued upon the same sentence until you shall have 
drawn in each little mind a vivid mental picture of 
" Will " and his dog, with all the attendant circum- 
stances which will appear to the mind's eye of the 
little pupil every time he reads the sentence. And 
with a little care great enthusiasm can be created in 
a class of little people, because they are doing some- 
thing that they comprehend. Every thing should 
8 



116 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

be taught by association in this manner. Ingenuity 
must be a strong characteristic of the teacher, and 
he should not be required to do any thing else but 
teach the primary classes to read and picture their 
own thoughts. . 

The same methods of mental imagery should reach 
through all the juvenile readers, and, upon reaching 
the Fourth Reader, the pupils would be prepared 
to read with great acceptance such selections as are 
found therein. This method of teaching primary read- 
ing at least has the advantage of giving beginners a 
favorable outset ; for the pupil must first conceive the 
idea, and then read it as he conceives it. The ab- 
sence of study, as it presents itself in the reading- 
books now in use, leaves the mind free from vexa- 
tious words without meaning to the child, and which 
are pronounced with great difficulty, and without a 
trace of expression, are crowded together and called 
reading. 

The results of methods treated in this chapter are 
much more rapidly acquired than we at first imagine. 
The principal caution is, not to change suddenly the 
whole system of words involved in any exercise, but 
to add by degrees to them. 

Frequently rearrange the words into new exercises, 
adding occasionally a new one, until you shall have 
completed the vocabulary necessary to use your charts. 
Your blackboard exercises should be adapted to the 
chart lessons, as concerns the words used, etc. Artic- 
ulation must be attended to during this stage of the 
work, and should be practiced in connection with 
pronunciation. 






COURSE OF READING. 117 

This method of teaching primary reading can not 
fail in the hands of the properly qualified teacher, 
and no other should attempt it. 

IV. Timbre. 

There exists a vocal peculiarity known to vocal 
students as Timbre, or quality of sound. By it we 
distinguish voices and recognize those of our ac- 
quaintance. It is the same peculiarity which enables 
us to distinguish between the sounds produced by an 
organ and a clarionet. These are both reed instru- 
ments, yet we readily perceive a marked difference 
in their timbre. The distinction of sound between 
a violin and a guitar is perceived in the same man- 
ner, and although both are stringed instruments, the 
ear at once detects the points of dissimilarity which in 
each case characterizes the instrument. 

The diversity of human voices is infinite, and the 
student would do well to study the voice in this par- 
ticular with a view of increasing the scope of his own. 
It is often necessary in impersonation, especially in 
comedy and age, to overcome our natural timbre and 
assume that of an imaginary character. The timbre 
of the speaking voice depends partially upon the shape 
of the organs in each individual, and partially to the 
habits of use into which we may have fallen. It so 
much depends upon the latter that very frequently a 
course of training effectually and radically changes 
the timbre. 

V. Course of Keading on Elocution. 
The student of Elocution who would master the 



118 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

subject must resign himself to a life of incessant 
labor. If you are a student of this or that profes- 
sor — as you should be, if you wish to gain any con- 
siderable degree of proficiency — you should read all 
attainable works on the subject. If you depend en- 
tirely upon the instruction given by a single school or 
individual you are very likely to be narrow in your 
conception, unless you embrace the good things that 
may be found in almost any book on Elocution. 

If in a book of any size you secure a single chap- 
ter, topic, or principle that meets your wants, you 
have a treasure. Of course we find in all books 
many things which are not practically useful to our- 
selves; yet in any book on the subject, however hum- 
ble, some ideas may be gathered. 

There are many little books in paper covers you 
should not slight, for it is not the binding that makes 
the book. The writer has gleaned most valuable in- 
formation from some of those very books. 

If you have recourse to a library, use whatever may 
offer on your subject. If you have no such opportu- 
nities, address any publisher for a catalogue of educa- 
tional works, and you will be able to select whatever 
you may desire from the educational literature of the 
whole country. It matters not who your instructor 
may be — read. 

YI. Silent Peactice. 

Many of the great actors and orators are said to 
have been in the habit of silently practicing great 
efforts with good effect. This method may consist 
of pure mental meditation of the subject and manner 






SILENT PRACTICE. 119 

of delivery, or a subdued audible practice in which 
the powers are exercised in every respect as they are 
to appear in public, except that every use of the voice 
is given in miniature. In other words, the full force 
of such practice is perhaps as soft as the subdued force 
of ordinary reading or speaking. This suppression of 
the vocal powers — which may more pertinently be 
termed compression of the- power — is conducted with 
a full flow of feeling or passion. Thus you perceive 
that the diminution of the vocal effects differs from 
an ordinary process of that nature, in the fact that 
emotional expression is not reduced, and in the sub- 
dued expression it preserves all the vigor and bold- 
ness of its outline. 

Look at a distant landscape with the naked eye. 
Every thing appears in dim outline, mellowed and 
completely subdued by the distance. This is the 
effect on a vocal effort when we subdue it in all its 
relations — as in undertonic, listless rehearsal of a 
part by a professional actor when the feeling is only 
coextensive with the vocal power brought to bear 
upon it, which is merely audibility to himself, and 
nothing more. 

Now take a powerful glass and view the same land- 
scape. The effect is heightened and all the minutiae 
distinctly brought out. This is the effect of a dis- 
course, upon a public representation, when every ex- 
pressive power is magnified and intensified. 

Now reverse the glass and view the landscape once 
more, looking into the large end of the glass. The 
picture seems inconceivably distant, but in minuteness 
of detail not a jot is lost. Every line appears in as 



120 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

bold relief as in the magnified state, but reduced in 
size. This accords with the subdued practice of 
which we have spoken. While the proportions are 
reduced in every other way, the vitality and vigor 
of the expression are the same as in the public effort. 

The inaudible practice by meditation, first men- 
tioned in this discussion, can not fail to be of great 
value in acquiring the sentiment and capability of 
faithfully rendering the spirit of a discourse ; yet it 
seems somewhat doubtful if by this means we may 
absolutely control all the vocal effects, while in the 
audible practice there is no cause for apprehension on 
that score. 

In recommending the subdued audible practice it 
is believed that every student may profit by it; and it 
certainly opens up an avenue of access to Elocution 
heretofore closed to persons so situated that a full 
outlet of the voice in private practice might be objec- 
tionable from the nature of surroundings. 

By this method you may render " Hamlet" or " Mac- 
beth" in a room, while the occupant of the adjoining 
apartment would know nothing of what was going on. 
Your voice will improve as rapidly under this practice 
as if you exerted full power upon the effort. 

The exercises embodied in this manual may be 
treated by this method. This suggestion presupposes, 
of course, that you shall have frequent opportunities 
for regular practice, in which you are to be your best 
selves. 

VII. Care of the Voice. 

A few suggestions upon the care of the voice may 
not be amiss, and, if followed out, will certainly save 



CARE OF THE VOICE. 121 

us the annoyance of many a sore throat, hoarseness, 
or other inconvenience. 

The following advice, gleaned from a very valuable 
little work on Elocution, is to the point, and is given 
with but little change : 

" Keep the mouth shut in cold, damp, and foggy 
weather, especially at night. Breathe through the 
nostrils only, which act as a respirator and warm the 
cold air before it reaches the lungs. It is a very 
common but dangerous habit to commence speaking 
when two or more persons leave a warm church, the- 
ater, or house. You should shut the mouth before 
going out, keep it closed, and walk rapidly for a few 
minutes, but not so fast as to become heated. 

" Do not overheat the throat by muffling it up too 
much with scarfs or comforters, as they may become 
loose and admit a draft; or if the mouth be covered 
the breath is driven inward, causing a dampness about 
the throat which induces hoarseness and sore throat. 
Leave off practicing before the organs become fa- 
tigued. Most vocal or bronchial complaints arise 
from exposure by muffling, overexertion, or too little 
practice. In the second cause, rest, — and the last, 
daily practice — will effect a cure. 

" Never speak so loud as to cause a painful effort. 
The voice should never be urged beyond its strength 
nor kept long upon its highest notes. Overexertion, 
besides spoiling the voice at the time, may perma- 
nently injure it, and cause inflammation or ulceration 
of the throat, or bring on rupture, or burst a blood- 
vessel. The voice should not be exercised more than 
is absolutely necessary during the state of change 



122 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

which takes place at puberty. It generally takes sev- 
eral months to get thoroughly settled, but is often 
completely changed in a short time." 

The voice at this period is much more susceptible 
of injury than at any other time, and should be very 
carefully handled. No danger need be feared on the 
medium and lower pitches, but great care should be 
exercised on pitches above a natural medium. We 
should carefully guard against habits of carelessness 
in our speech. If you would cultivate a pure, smooth 
voice do not permit the growth of a guttural habit 
of conversation. Take pains to breathe properly, and 
do not patronize nostrums for clearing the voice. 
These can afford but temporary relief, and a bit of 
sugar or a peppermint lozenge will do the same with- 
out so much danger. 

The after-effect of nostrums is that you feel the 
need of them at every renewed effort, and in a little 
while are unable to get along without them. A little 
sugar taken when absolutely necessary will serve all 
purposes, but should not be continued. 

If in the midst of a vocal effort you find the mouth 
grow feverish and dry — an experience common to be- 
ginners — at first it may be well to take, say, a spoon- 
ful of water and allow it to wet the organs. Do not 
drink much — neither often nor more than a sup at 
once. It is not best to do so at all while before the 
audience. This dryness arises from nervousness, and 
will disappear when confidence is gained. It is ex- 
tremely annoying to the young speaker, and we ad- 
vise against taking any other steps to remedy it per- 
manently than to be calm and self-possessed, then 



NATURAL CAPACITY. 123 

the salivary glands will in most cases perform their 
duty properly. 

VIII. Natural Capacity. 

There is great difference in the natural capacity of 
pupils for the study of Elocution, as well as all other 
studies. This is frequently urged as a reason why 
persons should not study it. The only thing that 
keeps the world from laughing in the face of such ex- 
cuse venders is that Elocution is too generally viewed 
as a luxury — in no way connected with the necessities 
of a practical education. 

The sooner the public mind is disabused of such 
false notions concerning this study, the better for our 
advancement in the direction of high education. Be- 
cause you are less aptly adapted to the study of math- 
ematics than I am, do the seminaries and colleges 
excuse you from the discipline and benefits of the 
prescribed course? Certainly not. But, you argue, 
mathematics form a fundamental principle in the 
education of every one. Let me ask what practical 
good your mathematics and natural sciences would 
do you if you were dumb? You can answer this 
yourself. Where is the reasoning which favors the 
storing of a barn with valuable fruits, locking it and 
throwing away the key ? This is what you are doing 
when you store the mind with every branch of knowl- 
edge, neglecting to cultivate and improve the voice, 
the grand central highway of communication between 
the world and that stored receptacle, the mind. 

It is the duty of every one to make the most of 
his natural powers, and on this ground alone nothing 



124 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

that the world has reason to expect of you should 
be lacking. The faculty of speech is the common 
ground upon which humanity meets, and if we should 
be obliged to omit one, two, three or more elements 
from our intellectual composition, we should always 
be found in command of the best methods of expres- 
sion, by means of which we should be able to make 
the most of our resources. He who possesses but 
moderate natural capacity is vastly superior to the 
person who is in every way adapted to the art of ex^ 
pression, if he has cultivated his little while the other 
has allowed his genius to grow up untaught. We do 
not know always when natural capacity exists, without 
investigation, and an attempt at cultivation, in nine 
cases out of ten, discovers arable soil which is capable 
of producing at least an hundred-fold. 

Elocution should not be regarded as an ornamental 
department, unnecessary to a plain education, but 
should be held as the light which reflects its brill- 
iancy upon all our other accomplishments, and which 
should be carefully trimmed and kept burning as the 
jewel which, more than all others, adds value to the 
coronet called an education. 

IX. Versatility of Expression. 

Under this head it is the hope of the writer that 
something may be said to encourage a wide research 
and determined effort. 

We certainly have not the natural adaptation to 
all kinds of reading equally well developed ; yet it 
is within the possibilities of every one's powers to 



VERSATILITY OF EXPRESSION. 125 

make much improvement upon natural endowments. 
In England and many other places trades are learned 
by departments; e. g. y a tailor has a dozen appren- 
tices. Some learn cutting and fitting, others make 
vests or pantaloons, while the remainder are confined 
to the sewing of coats. It requires all these depart- 
ments to make a complete tailor, yet many persons 
serve their whole lives with only part of a trade. They 
can not make a coat, for they have only learned to 
make vests. It may be argued that they are the 
more artistic in their single department than they 
would be had they acquired the entire number of 
parts that make the whole. This is not necessarily 
true. It would discourage laudable ambition and 
the highest usefulness. 

In Elocution it is precisely the same. We may know 
a certain school of theory, and accept it as the only 
one calculated to fully develop expressive power, while 
we ignore all other methods. This is narrow-minded- 
ness, and unworthy the passing thought of an earnest 
man or woman. Learn from every one. 

Apply all the good you meet in judiciously im^ 
proving your own capacity. Turn the mistakes of 
others to account in avoiding them yourself, and in 
rooting out their causes from your habit. Don't 
grow hypercritical, but deal justly with all men. 
When you study vocal culture avoid confining your- 
self to any single realm of expression, but practice 
both the grave and the gay. If you be a minister 
don't on that account eschew the drama. If you are 
learning to read the Scripture don't forget our hu- 
morous authors. If you be a disciple of Blackstone 



126 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

don't on that account make yourself a stranger to 
the Bible. Be able to read it well. 

In short, avoid " fortes " or strong points, and cul- 
tivate an equilibrium of power which will fit you for 
giving a varied evening entertainment composed of 
selections running through the tragic, comic, and pa- 
thetic, with a creditable sustenance of the identity 
and purposes of each. 

X. Dramatic Heading. 

" The chief fault committed by amateur readers is in 
introducing too much impersonation, acting, and vo- 
cal mimicry. This arises from not clearly perceiving 
the distinction between the theatrical performance and 
the dramatic reading of a tragedy or serious play. The 
first reader and one of the greatest actresses of this or 
any age — the great Mrs. Siddons — Mr. Macready 
and Mr. Yandenhoif among the most eminent trage- 
dians — avoided all vocal mimicry, and depended upon 
the modulation, not alteration, of their own voices for 
making the different characters distinct to the audi- 
ence. They used action sparingly, purposely discard- 
ing certain stage effects, and producing others not 
given on the stage. The reader should never obtrude 
himself before the audience. The more an actor sinks 
his own individuality in that of the character he as- 
sumes, the more he has succeeded in his art ; but the 
reader of a tragedy must, during the greater part of 
his performance, remain a " reader " as distinguished 
from an actor, although moments will occur in which 
distinction will vanish. In choosing these moments, 
and in steering between the extremes of tameness on 



DRAMATIC READING. 127 

the one hand and a degree of impersonation that is 
only consistent with theatrical action on the other, 
lies the merit of the reader. 

"These principles of course do not apply to the 
reading of a comedy or strong comic scenes in a seri- 
ous play or novel, in which changes of voice and 
mimicry are more or less allowable, and indeed nec- 
essary, to produce proper effect. 

" Many pieces are read that ought to be recited, by 
which half the effect is missed; and many pieces are 
recited that ought to be read, and a confusing effect 
produced. The proper pieces to recite are soliloquies 
and speeches from plays and poems which contain 
little, if any, dialogue, and admit of impersonation 
and action. 

" The impersonation should be as complete and the 
action as strong as in acting a character on the stage. 
In tragic recitation let your walk be massive, but nat- 
ural. Tread easily and evenly on the ball of the foot, 
letting the movement proceed from the thigh, and not 
from the knee, which should not be bent. Do not 
give a swinging motion to the shoulders or haunches." 

It will be seen from the above discussion that a 
definite line of discrimination is drawn between read- 
ing and reciting, the latter more fully according with 
acting. We are expected to be artists in modulation, 
to enable us to read dramatic selections ; and to such 
an extent should this be carried that any reasonable 
number of characters may be distinguished by modu- 
lation alone. 

The " Trial Scene " from the Merchant of Venice 
affords an example of the drawing of six characters — 



128 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

viz: "The Duke," "Portia/' "Shylock," "Antonio," 
" Bassanio," and " Gratiano." 

The character of the "Duke" may be expressed by 
giving to the utterance, orotund quality of voice, me- 
dium pitch, full force, slow rate, and long quan- 
tity. That of "Portia" requires simple, pure, and 
orotund qualities, pitch above medium, medium force, 
medium rate, and ordinary quantity. So clear a dis- 
tinction is drawn by thus rendering the lines of these 
characters that they are recognized at once, while there 
is no trace of vocal mimicry or change of timbre. 

XL The Character of Age. 

A few directions for giving the character of age to 
our voices may be of service to the student, and will 
assist him much in executing a natural old man's or 
old woman's tone. 

The directions are general; the timbre of the sound 
is left a matter of personal taste. To acquire variety 
of timbre will require invention and observation to 
make it suit the character, and involves that study 
which is necessary to the proper preparation of any 
selection. 

Old Men's Voices. 

The principle is the projection of the lower jaw. 
In such old men as "Polonius" the jaw should be 
projected very far, while a less projection decreases 
the apparent age. 

"The Old Man in the Model Church," "Scott and 
the Veteran," etc., afford ample opportunities for 
practice. 



HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS. 129 

Old Women's Voices. 

Contract or draw in the lower jaw so that the up- 
per jaw seems to be projected. The voice produced 
under these circumstances will closely resemble that 
of a very old woman. 

"Over the Hill to the Poor-house" and selections 
containing grandmothers' gossip are proper subjects 
for practice. 

XII. Hints and Suggestions. 

Never get flurried. If you chance to make a mis- 
take don't allow it to disconcert you. It is rarely 
advisable to return to correct an error in reading. 
Never apologize. If you are called upon to do any 
thing, do it if you can ; and if you can not, don't 
agree to nor attempt it. Nothing is more vexatious 
to a well-bred audience than to have a reader or 
speaker come before them with a round of prepared 
apologies, which amount to the same thing as asking 
their compliments. Be natural in all your represen- 
tations. Open the mouth well in speaking or read- 
ing. Sit or stand erect. Do not allow your voice 
to pass too much through the nose. 

Never attempt to read any thing in public with which 
you are not perfectly familiar. Always decline reading 
pieces that you have never seen or, at least, are but 
slightly acquainted with. 

Do not be ashamed to say, " I am not familiar with 
the piece." No one who understands Elocution will 
ever be caught napping in this particular. While 
reading is reading — the same in any selection as far 



130 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

as technicalities are concerned — each individual dis- 
course or selection requires an independent study. 
To paint your portrait and mine is painting, but we 
each require the special study of the artist. Do not 
be in a hurry to parade new acquisitions. Let them 
be privately rehearsed until they shall have entirely 
lost their novelty to you, and until you have become 
master of every detail connected with them. 

County superintendents and examining officers make 
a great mistake in endeavoring to ascertain the quali- 
fications of students by requiring them to read selec- 
tions entirely new to them, at a few minutes', or per- 
haps no notice. 

If you give an entertainment, exercise great judg- 
ment in your selections. The success of an evening's 
reading depends largely upon the propriety of the 
selections. It is in bad taste to open a programme 
with a humorous reading. A very acceptable pro- 
gramme may be made up in this order: 1. A piece 
of sentiment or pathos ; 2. A dramatic or tragic se- 
lection; 3. Comedy. This order should be inter- 
spersed with music, always keeping the comedy down 
to at most one-third of the entire programme. It 
is well to close with humor. If you wish to close 
with any thing else, choose pathos, sentiment, nar- 
rative, or any thing but tragedy. Any selection with 
a cheerful ending is best adapted as a final piece. If 
you are called upon to read a single selection, good 
taste would suggest any thing rather than humor. 
There are many persons who do not follow this order 
to any degree ; and you will find the desire of all au- 
diences to run in the direction of the humorous, but 



HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS. 131 

their better natures will be reached by the opposite 
course. 

The dignity of the reader is compromised when he 
allows himself to be carried away by the lower tastes. 
Of course, if you have two or more selections to read, 
one or more may be humorous. The reading of humor 
is not discountenanced, but it is the hope of the writer 
to show you that if you add too much spice you will 
render the dish like most innutritive preparations — 
indigestible. 

If you are reading to an inattentive audience don't 
fume and worry and say unpleasant things, but rather 
bow and retire in the midst of a reading. If it be- 
comes necessary to rebuke a few individuals who may 
be talking, laughing, or otherwise disturbing the audi- 
ence and yourself, stop without saying a word, assume 
an attitude of resignation and repose, with an occa- 
sional glance of patient waiting in the direction of the 
offenders. Hold this attitude until every thing is quiet, 
which, in most cases, will not exceed a minute ; then 
proceed as if nothing had occurred to mar the most 
serene state of affairs. This course gives you at once 
the sympathy of the attentive portion of the audience, 
and the stillness that reigns instantly points out the 
offenders to the gaze and contempt of all ladies and 
gentlemen. This method of rebuke is more humili- 
ating than sharp words, and the feelings of innocent 
people are not outraged, while the speaker wins a large 
place in the esteem of all good people. 

If you are to read in a church be extremely careful 
not to select any thing which may possibly offend the 
most punctilious. Don't understand that you shall 
9 



132 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

be afraid to be yourself, but avoid any thing which 
savors of impropriety. A church is held by some as 
sacred, and although the subject is not viewed alike 
by all, great care is necessary. It is extremely doubt- 
ful if ever a reading entertainment was given in a 
church in which something was not done to give room 
for some one to do penance over and deplore. For 
this reason a young reader, at least, should insist on 
reading elsewhere. Objections and faults are always 
found by ignorant and uncultivated people, whose 
tongues are more dangerous than any other, for they 
constantly wag, and in all directions. 

If you read to children, choose simple narrative 
selections mainly. Do not read any thing which re- 
quires the least reflection to catch the points as they 
appear. 

Never be in a hurry about any thing, but take all 
the time that justice to the subject demands. Do not 
allow compliments or flattery to make you vain. Con- 
ceit in a reader is an abomination. Remember that 
you retrograde rapidly by inactivity ; hence never 
allow a day to pass without having done something. 
Don't always be attempting new exercises. The old 
ones are better. Learn something from every speaker 
you hear, either by adopting the good or avoiding the 
bad. Preserve your individuality by not becoming a 
reprint or fac-simile of your instructor. 

If you be teaching, pay close attention to the ele- 
mentary drills which make up the department of Me- 
chanical Elocution. Do not be in haste to have 
your pupils make failures in Shakespeare, etc. They 
are usually anxious, at first, to air their ignorance 



HINTS AND SUGGESTIONS. 133 

of the subject by shedding the blood of dead authors. 
Keep before them the vital importance of the simplest 
exercises, and the fact that the work of a life-time can 
make them masters of a very limited number of pieces 
compared with the vast number extant. 

Regard nothing as too trivial ; every thing that has 
reference to the improvement of the art of expres- 
sion is important, and has claims upon your attention. 

Do not depend upon a single master or book. Read 
extensively and with discrimination, and make it your 
business to hear the best readers, speakers, and actors 
of the day. 

Finally, never cease to be a student, nor forget the 
immensity of the work before you. 



TEACHING SELECTIONS. 



CONVERSATIONAL. 



Hamlet's Instruction to the Player. 

Shakespeare. 

Read in purely conversational voice and manner. Modulate 
carefully. A fine example of didactic reading. 

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it 
to you, — trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth 
it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town- 
crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too 
much with your hand, thus: but use all gently; for 
in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirl- 
wind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a 
temperance, that may give it smoothness. Oh! it of- 
fends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig- 
pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, — to very rags, — 
to split the ears of the groundlings ; who, for the most 
part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb- 
show and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped 
for o'erdoing Termagant: it out-herods Herod. Pray 
you, avoid it. 

Be not too tame neither, but let your own discre- 
tion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the 
word to the action ; with this special observance, that 
you o'erstep not the modesty of nature : for any thing 



CONVERSATIONAL. 135 

so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose 
end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as 
't were, the mirror up to nature ; — to show virtue her 
own feature ; scorn her own image ; and the very age 
and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now, 
this overdone or come tardy off, though it make the 
unskillful laugh, can not but make the judicious 
grieve ; the censure of which one, must, in your allow- 
ance, o'erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh ! there 
be players, that I have seen play, — and heard others 
praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, 
that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the 
gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and 
bellowed that I have thought some of nature's jour- 
neymen had made men, and not made them well, they 
imitated humanity so abominably. 



Scrooge and Marley. 

Charles Dickens. 

Simple pure quality, conversational style. Descriptive. Note 
the series occurring in several passages. Be careful to avoid monot- 
ony in them. 

Marley was dead to begin with. There is no doubt 
whatever about that. The register of his burial was 
signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, 
and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it : and 
Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for any thing 
he choose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as 
dead as a door-nail. 

Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my 



136 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

own knowlege, what there is particularly dead about 
a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to 
regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmon- 
gery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors 
is in the simile ; and my unhallowed hands shall not 
disturb it, or the Couu try's done for. You will there- 
fore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley 
was as dead as a door-nail. 

Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. 
How could it be otherwise? Scrooge and he w r ere 
partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge 
was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole 
assignee, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and 
sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dread- 
fully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an ex- 
cellent man of business on the very day of the fu- 
neral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain. 

Scrooge never painted out old Marley's name. There 
it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: 
Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge 
and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business 
called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but 
he answered to both names : it was all the same to 
him. 

Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind- 
stone, Scrooge ! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scrap- 
ing, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp 
as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out gen- 
erous fire; secret and self-contained, and solitary as 
an oyster. The cold within him froze his old feat- 
ures, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, 
stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips 



CONVEESATIONAL. 137 

blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. 
A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, 
and his wiry chin. He carried his own low tempera- 
ture always about with him ; he iced his office in the 
dog-days ; and did n't thaw it one degree at Christ- 
mas. 

External heat and cold had little influence on 
Scrooge. No warmth could warm, nor wintry weath- 
er chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than 
be, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, 
no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather 
didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, 
and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the ad- 
vantage over him in only one respect. They often 
"came down" handsomely, and Scrooge never did. 

Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with 
gladsome looks, " My dear Scrooge, how are you ? 
when will you come to see me ? " No beggars implored 
him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it 
was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his 
life inquired the way to such and such a place, of 
Scrooge. Even the blind-men's dogs appeared to 
know him ; and when they saw him coming on, would 
tug their owners into door- ways and up courts; and 
then would wag their tails as though they said, " No 
eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master! " 

But what did Scrooge care ? It was the very thing 
he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths 
of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its dis- 
tance, was what the knowing ones call "nuts" to 
Scrooge. 



138 outline of elocution. 

Forty Years Ago. 

Anonymous. 

This pretty piece of sentiment is an excellent example for prac- 
tice in conversational reading. Be perfectly natural, and modulate 
very delicately. 

I 've wandered to the village, Tom, I 've sat beneath 

the tree, 
Upon the school -house play -ground, that sheltered 

you and me; 
But none were left to greet me, Tom ; and few were 

left to know, 
Who played with us upon the green, some forty years 

ago. 

The grass is just as green, Tom; barefooted boys at 

play 
Were sporting, just as we did then, with spirits just 

as gay. 
But the " master" sleeps upon the hill, which, coated 

o'er with snow, 
Afforded us a sliding -place, some forty years ago. 

The old school -house is altered now; the benches 

are replaced 
By new ones, very like the same our penknives once 

defaced ; 
But the same old bricks are in the wall, the bell 

swings to and fro ; 
Its music's just the same, dear Tom, 'twas forty years 

ago. 

The boys were playing the same old game, beneath 
that same old tree ; 



CONVEKSATTONAL. 139 

I have forgot the name just now, — you've played the 

same with me 
On that same spot ; 't was played with knives, by 

throwing so and so ; 
The loser had a task to do, — there, forty years ago. 

The river 's running just as still ; the willows on its 

side 
Are larger than they were, Tom ; the stream appears 

less wide; 
But the grape-vine swing is ruined now, where once 

we played the beau, 
And swung our sweethearts, — pretty girls, — just forty 

years ago. 

The spring that bubbled 'neath the hill, close by the 

spreading beech, 
Is very low, — 'twas then so high that we could 

scarcely reach; 
And, kneeling down to get a drink, dear Tom, I 

started so, 
To see how sadly I am changed, since forty years 

ago. 
Near by that spring, upon an elm, you know I cut 

your name, 
Your sweetheart's just beneath it, Tom, and you did 

mine the same ; 
Some heartless wretch has peeled the bark; 'twas 

dying sure, but slow, 
Just as she died, whose name you cut, some forty 

years ago. 
My lids have long been dry, Tom, but tears came to 

my eyes ; 



140 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

I thought of her I loved so well, those early broken 

ties; 
I visited the old church -yard, and took some flowers 

to strow 
Upon the graves of those we loved, some forty years 

ago. 

Some are in the church -yard laid, some sleep beneath 

the sea; 
But few are left of our old class, excepting you and 

me: 
And when our time shall come, Tom, and we are 

called to go, 
I hope they'll lay us where we played, just forty 

years ago. 



Modulation. 

Lloyd. 

This selection affords excellent advantages as a drill piece. — 
Conversational, with sound to suit the sense. 

'Tis not enough the voice be sound and clear, 
'T is modulation that must charm the ear. 
When desperate heroes grieve with tedious moan, 
And whine their sorrows in a see-saw tone, 
The same soft sounds of unimpassioned woes 
Can only make the yawning hearers doze. 
That voice all modes of passion can express, 
Which marks the proper words with proper stress; 
But none emphatic can that speaker call, 
Who lays an equal emphasis on all; 
Some, o'er the tongue the labored measures roll, 
Slow and deliberate as the parting toll ; 



CONVERSATIONAL. 141 

Point every stop, mark every pause so strong, 
Their words like stage processions stalk along. 

All affectation but creates disgust ; 
And e'en in speaking, we may seem too just. 
In vain for them the pleasing measure flows, 
Whose recitation runs it all to prose ; 
Repeating what the poet sets not down, 
The verb disjointing from its favorite noun, 
While pause and break, and repetition join 
To make a discord in each tuneful line. 

Some placid natures fill the allotted scene 
With lifeless drawls, insipid and serene ; 
While others thunder every couplet o'er, 
And almost crack your ears with rant and roar. 
More nature oft, and finer strokes are shown 
In the low whisper, than tempestuous tone ; 
And Hamlet's hollow voice and fixed amaze, 
More powerful terror to the mind conveys, 
Than he who, swollen with impetuous rage, 
Bullies the bulky phantom of the stage. 

He who, in earnest, studies o'er his part, 

Will find true nature cling about his heart. 

The modes of grief are not included all 

In the white handkerchief and mournful drawl ; 

A single look more marks the internal woe, 

Than all the windings of the lengthened Oh ! 

Up to the face the quick sensation flies, 

And darts its meaning from the speaking eyes ; 

Love, transport, madness, anger, scorn, despair, 

And all the passions, all the soul is there. 



142 outline of elocution. 

The Barn -Window. 

Lucy Larcom. 

A beautiful sentiment, — to be read in an easy, fluent style, with 
perfect naturalness. 

The old barn-window, John, 

Do you remember it ? 
How just above it, on the beam, 

The tame doves used to sit? 
And how we watched the sunshine stream 

Through motes and gossamer, 
When down they fluttered, John, 

With such a breezy whirr ? 

I think the sunsets, John, 

Are seldom now as red ; 
They used to linger like a crown 

Upon your auburn head, 
When, from the hay-loft looking down, 

You told me of the nest 
The white hen hid there, John, 

The whole brood's handsomest ! 

Those times were pleasant, John, 

When we were boy and girl, 
Though modern young folks style them " slow." 

Alack ! a giddy whirl 
The poor old world is spinning now — 

To stop, who guesses when ? 
Be thankful with me, John, 

That we were children then ! 

Have you forgotten, John, 
That Wednesday afternoon 



CONVERSATIONAL. • 143 

When the great doors were opened wide, 

And all the scents of June 
Came in to greet us, side by side 

In the high -seated swing, 
Where flocks of swallows, John, 

Fanned us with startled wing ? 

Up to the barn-eaves, John, 

We swung, two happy things — 
At home and careless in the air, 

As if we both had wings. 
The mountain-sides lay far and fair 

Beyond the blue stream's shore ; 
I cried, "Swing higher, John," 

And fell upon the floor. 

Next time I saw you, John, 

You stood beside my bed ; 
Tears trembled in your clear, boy glance— 

I thought that I was dead, 
But felt my childish pulses dance 

To be beside you still ; 
I lived to love you, John, 

As to the end I will. 

We swing no longer, John ; 

We sit at our own door, 
And watch the shadows on the hill, 

The sunshine on the shore ; 
But the window in the barn is still 

A magic glass to me, 
For through its cobwebs, John, 

Our childhood days I see. 



144 outline of elocution. 

The Boys. 

0. W. Holmes. 

This selection is a poem addressed to the class of 1829, in Har- 
vard College, some thirty years after their graduation. The author, 
who retains in a. high degree the freshness and joyousness of youth r 
addresses his classmates as "boys." 

Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ? 
If there has, take him out, without making a noise. 
Hang the almanac's cheat and the catalogue's spite ! 
Old Time is a liar ! we 're twenty to-night ! 

We 're twenty ! We 're twenty ! Who says we are 

more ? 
He 's tipsy, — young jackanapes ! — show him the door ! 
" Gray temples at twenty ? " — Yes ! white if we please ; 
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing* 

can freeze ! 

Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake ! 
Look close, — you will not see a sign of a flake ! 
We want some new garlands for those we have shed, 
And these are white roses in place of the red. 

We 've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been 

told, 
Of talking, in public, as if we were old ; 
That boy we call " Doctor," and this we call " Judge ; " 
It 's a neat little fiction, — of course it 's all fudge. 

That fellow 's the " Speaker." the one on the right ; 
"Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? 
That 's our " Member of Congress," we say when we 
chaff; 



CONVERSATIONAL. 145 

There 's the "Reverend" — what's his name? — don't 
make me laugh. 

That boy with the grave mathematical look 

Made believe he had written a wonderful book, 

And the Royal Society thought it was true ! 

So they choose him right in, — a good joke it was too I 

There 's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, 
That could harness a team with a logical chain ; 
When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire, 
We called him "The Justice," but now he's the 
"Squire." 

And there 's a nice youngster of excellent pith ; 
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith ; 
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free, — 
Just read on his medal, "My country," "of thee !" 

You hear that boy laughing? You think he 's all fun ; 
But the angels laugh too at the good he has done; 
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call, 
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all I 

Yes, we 're boys, — always playing with tongue or with 

pen; 
And I sometimes have asked, Shall we ever be men ? 
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay, 
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away ? 

Then here 's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray ! 
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! 
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys, 
Dear Father, take care of thy children, The Boys ! 



146 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 



Crossing the Carry. 

Rev. W. H. H. Murray. 

Scene. — The Adirondacks during a shower. A pleasure-seeker and 
his guide on the road. 

" John," said I, as we stood looking at each other 
across the boat, "this rain is wet." 

"It generally is, up in this region, I believe," he 
responded, as he wiped the water out of his eyes with 
the back of his hand, and shook the accumulating 
drops from nose and chin; "but the waterproof I 
have on has lasted me some thirty-eight years, and 
I don't think it will wet through to-day." 

"Well!" I exclaimed, "there is no use standing 
here in this marsh-grass any longer ; help me to load 
up. I'll take the baggage, and you the boat." 

"You'll never get through with it, if you try to 
take it all at once. Better load light, and I '11 come 
back after what's left," was the answer. "I tell you," 
he continued, "the swamp is full of water, and soft 
as muck." 

"John," said I, "that baggage is going over at 
one load, sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- 
ish. I'll make the attempt, swamp or no swamp. 
My life is assured against accidents by fire, water, 
and mud ; so here goes. What 's life to glory ! " I 
exclaimed, as I seized the pork-bag, and dragged it 
from under the boat; "stand by and see me put my 
armor on." 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 147 

Over my back I slung the provision basket, made 
like a fisherman's creel, thirty inches by forty, filled 
with plates, coffee, salt, and all the impedimenta of 
camp and cooking utensils. This was held in its 
place by straps passing over the shoulders and un- 
der the arms, like a Jew-peddler's pack. There might 
have been eighty pounds' weight in it. Upon the 
top of the basket, John lashed my knapsack, full of 
bullets, powder, and clothing. My rubber suit and 
heavy blanket, slung around my neck by a leather 
thong, hung down in front across my chest. On one 
shoulder the oars and paddles were balanced, with a 
frying-pan and gridiron swinging from the blades ; 
on the other was my rifle, from which were sus- 
pended a pair of boots, my creel, a coffee-pot, and 
a bag of flour. 

Taking up the bag of pork in one hand, and seiz- 
ing the stock of the rifle with the other, from two 
fingers of which hung a tin kettle of prepared trout, 
which we were loth to throw away, I started. Pict- 
ure a man so loaded, forcing his way through a hem- 
lock swamp, through whose floor of thin moss he sank 
to his knees ; or picking his way across oozy sloughs 
on old roots, often covered with mud and water, and 
slippery beyond description, and you have me daguerre- 
otyped in your mind. Well, as I said, I started. 

For some dozen rods I got on famously, and was 
congratulating myself with the thought of an easy 
transit, when a root upon which I had put my right 
foot gave way, and, plunging headlong into the mud, 
I struck an attitude of petition; while the frying- 
pan and gridiron, flung off the oars and forward by 
10 



148 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

the movement, alighted upon my prostrated head. An 
ejaculation, not exactly religious, escaped me, and with 
a few desperate flounces I assumed once more the per- 
pendicular. Fishing the frying-pan from the mud, 
and lashing the gridiron to my belt, I made another 
start. It was hard work. 

The most unnatural adjustment of weight upon my 
back made it difficult to ascertain just how far behind 
me lay the center of equilibrium. I found where it 
did not lie several times. Before I had gone fifty rods 
the camp-basket weighed one hundred and twenty 
pounds. The pork-bag felt as if it had several shoats 
in it, and the oar-blades struck out in the exact form 
of an X. If I went one side of a tree, the oars would 
go the other side. If I backed up, they would man- 
age to get entangled amid the brush. If I stumbled 
and fell, the confounded things would come like a 
goose-poke athwart my neck, pinning me down. 

As I proceeded, the mud grew deeper, the roots 
farther apart, and the blazed trees less frequent. Never 
before did I so truly realize the aspiration of the old 
hymn, — 

" O, had I the wings of a dove ! " 

At last I reached what seemed impossible to pass, — 
an oozy slough, crossed here and there by cedar roots, 
smooth and slippery, lay before me. From a high 
stump which I had climbed upon I gave a desperate 
leap. I struck where I expected, and a little farther. 
The weight of the basket, which was now something 
over two hundred pounds, was too much for me to 
check at once. It pressed me forward. I recovered 



DESCKIPTTVE SELECTIONS. 149 

myself, and the abominable oars carried me as far the 
other way. The moccasins of wet leather began to slip 
along the roots. They began to slip very often, and 
at bad times. I found it necessary to change my posi- 
tion suddenly. I changed it. It wasn't a perfect 
success. I tried again. It seemed necessary to keep 
on trying. 

I suspect I did not effect the changes very steadily, 
for the trout began to jump about in the pail and fly 
out into the mud. The gridiron got uneasy, and 
played against my side like a steam -flapper. In fact, 
the whole baggage seemed endowed with supernatural 
powers of motion. The excitement was contagious. 
In a moment, every article was jumping about like 
mad. I, in the meantime, continued to dance a horn- 
pipe on the slippery roots. 

Now I am conscientiously opposed to dancing. I 
never danced. I didn't want to learn. I felt it was 
wicked for me to be hopping around on that root so. 
What an example, I thought, if John should see me ! 
What would my wife say ? What would my deacons 
say ? I tried to stop. I couldn't. I had an astonish- 
ing dislike to sit down. I thought I would dance 
there forever, rather than sit down, — deacons or no 
deacons. 

The basket now weighed any imaginable number 
of pounds. The trout were leaping about my head, 
as if in their native element. The gridiron was in 
such rapid motion that it was impossible to distinguish 
the bars. There was, apparently, a whole litter of 
pigs in the pork-bag. I could not stand it longer. I 
concluded to rest awhile. I wanted to do the thing 



150 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

gracefully. I looked around for a soft spot, and seeing 
one just behind me, I checked myself. My feet flew 
out from under me. They appeared to be unusually 
light. I don't remember that I ever sat down quicker. 
The motion was very decided. The only difficulty I 
observed was, that the seat I had gracefully settled 
into had no bottom. 

The position of things was extremely picturesque. 
The oars were astride my neck, as usual. The trout- 
pail was bottom up, and the contents lying about al- 
most anywhere. The boots were hanging on a dry 
limb overhead. A capital idea. I thought of it as I 
was in the act of sitting down. One piece of pork lay 
at my feet, and another was sticking up, some ten feet 
off, in the mud. It looked very queer, — slightly out 
of place. With the same motion with which I hung 
my boots on a limb, as I seated myself, I stuck my 
rifle carefully into the mud, muzzle downward. I 
never saw a gun in that position before. It struck 
me as being a good thing. There was no danger of 
its falling over and breaking the stock. The first 
thing I did was to pass the gridiron under me. "When 
that feat had been accomplished, I felt more com- 
posed. It's pleasant for a man in the position I was 
in to feel that he has something under him. Even a 
chip or a small stump would have felt comfortable. 
As I sat thinking how many uses a gridiron could be 
put to, and estimating where I should then have been 
if I hadn't got it under me, I heard John forcing his 
way, with the boat on his back, through the thick 
undergrowth. 

"It won't do to let John see me in this position," 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 151 

I said; and so, with a mighty effort, I disengaged 
myself from the pack, flung off the blanket from 
around my neck, and, seizing hold of a spruce limb, 
which I could fortunately reach, drew myself slowly 
up. I had just time to jerk the rifle out of the mud, 
and fish up about half of the trout, when John came 
struggling along. 

"John," said I, leaning unconcernedly against a 
tree, as if nothing had happened, — "John, put down 
the boat, here's a splendid spot to rest. 

" Well, Mr. Murray," queried John, as he emerged 
from under the boat, "how are you getting along? " 

" Capitally ! " said I ; " the carry is very level when 
you once get down to it. I felt a little out of breath, 
and thought I would wait for you a few moments." 

"What's your boots doing up there in that tree?" 
exclaimed John, as he pointed up to where they hung 
dangling from the limb, about fifteen feet above our 
heads. 

" Boots doing ! " said I, " why they are hanging 
there, don't you see ? You did n't suppose I'd drop 
them into this mud, did you?" 

" Why, no," replied John, " I don't suppose you 
would ; but how about this ? " he continued as he 
stooped down and pulled a big trout, tail foremost, 
out of the soft muck ; " how did that trout come 
there ? " 

"It must have got out of the pail, somehow," I re- 
sponded. " I thought I heard something drop just as 
I sat down." 

" What in thunder is that, out there ? " exclaimed 
John, pointing to a piece of pork, one end of which 



152 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

was sticking about four inches out of the water; "is 
that pork?" 

" Well, the fact is, John," returned I, speaking with 
the utmost gravity, and in a tone intended to suggest 
a mystery, — " the fact is, John, I don't quite under- 
stand it. This carry seems to be all covered over with 
pork. I would n't be surprised to find a piece any- 
where. There is another junk, now," I exclaimed, 
as I plunged my moccasin into the mud and kicked a 
two-pound bit toward him ; " it's lying all round here 
loose." 

I thought John would split with laughter, but my 
time came, for as in one of his paroxysms he turned 
partly around, I saw that his back was covered with 
mud clear up to his hat. 

"Do you always sit down on your coat, John," I 
inquired, " when you cross a carry like this ? " 

" Come, come," rejoined he, ceasing to laugh from 
very exhaustion, " take a knife or tin plate, and scrape 
the muck from my back. I always tell my wife to 
make my clothes a ground color, but the color is laid 
on a little too thick this time, any way." 

"John," said I, after having scraped him down, 
" take'the paddle and spear my boots off from that 
limb up there, while I tread out this pork." 

Plunging into the slough, balancing here on a bog 
and there on an underlying root, I succeeded in con- 
centrating the scattered pieces at one point. As I was 
shying the last junk into the bag, a disappointed grunt 
from John caused me to look around. I took in the 
situation at a glance. The boots were still suspended 
from the limb. The paddle and two oars had fol- 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 153 

lowed suit, and lay cosily amid the branches, while 
John, poising himself dextrously on the trunk of a 
fallen spruce, red in the face and vexed at his want 
of success, was whirling the frying-pan over his head, 
in the very act of letting it drive at the boots. 

" Go in, John ! " I shouted, seizing hold of the 
gridiron with one hand and a bag of bullets with the 
other, while tears stood in my eyes from very laugh- 
ter; "when we've got all the rest of the baggage up 
in that hemlock, I'll pass up the boat, and we J ll make 
a camp." 

The last words were barely off my lips, when John, 
having succeeded in getting a firm footing, as he 
thought, on the slippery bark, threw all his strength 
into the cast, and away the big iron pan went whizz- 
ing up through the branches. But, alas for human 
calculation ! the rotten bark under his feet, rent by 
the sudden pressure as he pitched the cumbrous mis- 
sile upward, parted from the smooth wood, and John, 
with a mighty thump which seemed almost to snap his 
head off, came down upon the trunk ; while the frying- 
pan, gyrating like a broken- winged bird, landed rods 
away in the marsh. By this time John's blood was 
up, and the bombardment began in earnest. The first 
thing he laid his hand on was the coffee-pot. I fol- 
lowed suit with the gridiron. Then my fishing-basket 
and a bag of bullets mounted upward. Never before 
was such a battle waged, or such weapons used. 
The air was full of missiles. Tin plates, oar-locks, 
the axe, gridiron, and pieces of pork, were all in the 
air at once. How long the contest would have con- 
tinued I can not tell, had it not been brought to a 



154 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

glorious termination ; but at last the heavy iron camp- 
kettle, hurled by John's nervous wrist, striking the 
limb fair, crashed through like a forty-pound shot, 
and down came boots, oars, paddle, and all. Gather- 
ing the scattered articles together, we took our re- 
spective burdens, and pushed ahead. Weary and hot, 
we reached at length the margin of the swamp, and 
our feet stood once more upon solid ground. 



One Niche the Highest. 

Elihu Burritt. 

Dramatic recitation. Vivid description. Enter fully into the 
spirit of the scene. 

The scene opens with a view of the great Natural 
Bridge in Virginia. There are three or four lads 
standing in the channel below, looking up with, awe 
to that vast arch of unhewn rocks, which the Al- 
mighty bridged over those everlasting butments, 
"when the morning stars sang together." The lit- 
tle piece of sky spanning those measureless piers is 
full of stars, although it is midday. 

It is almost five hundred feet from where they 
stand, up those perpendicular bulwarks of limestone, 
to the key-rock of that vast arch, which appears to 
them only of the size of a man's hand. The silence 
of death is rendered more impressive by the little 
stream that falls from rock to rock down the chan- 
nel. The sun is darkened, and the boys have un- 
consciously uncovered their heads, as if standing in 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 155 

the presence-chamber of the Majesty of the whole 
earth. 

At last this feeling begins to wear away; they be- 
gin to look around them; they find that others have 
been there before them. They see the names of hun- 
dreds cut in the limestone butments. A new feeling 
comes over their young hearts, and their knives are 
in their hands in an instant. "What man has done, 
man can do," is their watch-word, while they draw 
themselves up, and carve their names a foot above 
those of a hundred full-grown men who have been 
there before them. 

They are all satisfied with this feat of physical 
exertion, except one, whose example illustrates per- 
fectly the forgotten truth, that there is no royal road 
to intellectual eminence. This ambitious youth sees 
a name just above his reach — a name that will be 
green in the memory of the world, when those of 
Alexander, Csesar, and Bonaparte shall be lost in 
oblivion. It was the name of Washington. 

Before he marched with Brad dock to that fatal 
field, he had been there, and left his name a foot 
above all his predecessors. It was a glorious thought 
of the boy, to write his name side by side with that 
of the great father of his country. He grasped his 
knife with a firmer hand, and clinging to a little 
jutting crag, he cuts a gain into the limestone, about 
a foot above where he stands; he then reaches up 
and cuts another for his hands. 

'Tis a dangerous adventure; but as he puts his 
feet and hands into those gains, and draws himself 
up carefully to his full length, he finds himself a foot 



156 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

above every name chronicled in that mighty wall. 
While his companions are regarding him with con- 
cern and admiration, he cuts his name in rude capi- 
tals, large and deep, into that flinty album. 

His knife is still in his hand, and strength in his 
sinews, and a new created aspiration in his heart. 
Again he cuts another niche, and again he carves 
his name in larger capitals. This is not enough. 
Heedless of the entreaties of his companions, he 
cuts and climbs again. The gradations of his as- 
cending scale grow wider apart. He measures his 
length at every gain he cuts. The voices of his 
friends wax weaker and weaker, till their words are 
finally lost on his ear. 

He now, for the first time, casts a look beneath him. 
Had that glance lasted a moment, that moment would 
have been his last. He clings with a convulsive shud- 
der to his little niche in the rock. An awful abyss 
awaits his almost certain fall. He is faint with se- 
vere exertion, and trembling from the sudden view 
of the dreadful destruction to which he is exposed. 
His knife is half worn away to the haft. He can hear 
the voices, but not the words, of his terror-stricken 
companions below. What a moment ! What a meager 
chance to escape destruction ! There is no retracing 
his steps. It is impossible to put his hand into the 
same niche with his feet, and retain his slender hold 
a moment. 

His companions instantly perceive this new and 
fearful dilemma, and await his fall with emotions that 
" freeze their young blood. " He is too high, too faint, to 
ask for his father and mother, and brothers and sisters 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 157 

to come and witness or avert his destruction. But one 
of his companions anticipates his desire. Swift as the 
wind, he bounds down the channel, and the situation 
of the fated boy is told upon his father's hearth-stone. 

Minutes of almost eternal length roll on, and there 
are hundreds standing in that rocky channel, and hun- 
dreds on the bridge above, all holding their breath, 
and awaiting the fearful catastrophe. The poor boy 
hears the hum of new and numerous voices both above 
and below. He can distinguish the tones of his fa- 
ther, who is shouting, with all the energy of despair, 
" William ! William ! don't look down ! Your mother, 
and Henry, and Harriet, are all here, praying for you ! 
Don't look, down ! Keep your eye towards the top ! " 

The boy didn't look down. His eye is fixed like 
a flint towards heaven, and his young heart on Him 
who reigns there. He grasps again his knife. He 
cuts another niche, and another foot is added to the 
hundreds that remove him from the reach of human 
help from below. How carefully he uses his wasting 
blade ! How anxiously he selects the softest places 
in that vast pier ! How he avoids every flinty grain ! 
How he economizes his physical powers, resting a 
moment at each gain he cuts ! How every motion is 
watched from below! There stand his father, mother, 
brother, and sister, on the very spot, where, if he falls, 
he will not fall alone. • 

The sun is half way down the west. The lad has 
made fifty additional niches in that mighty wall, and 
now finds himself directly under the middle of that 
vast arch of rocks, earth, and trees. He must cut his 
way in a new direction, to get from under this over- 



158 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

hanging mountain. The inspiration of hope is dying 
in his bosom ; its vital heat is fed by the increasing 
shouts of hundreds, perched upon cliffs and trees, and 
others who stand with ropes in their hands on the 
bridge above, or with ladders below. 

Fifty more gains must be cut before the longest 
rope can reach him. His wasting blade strikes again 
into the limestone. The boy is emerging painfully, 
foot by foot, from under that lofty arch. Spliced 
ropes are ready in the hands of those who are lean- 
ing over the outer edge of the bridge. Two minutes 
more and all must be over. The blade is worn to 
the last half inch. The boy's head reels ; his eyes 
are starting from their sockets. His last hope is dy- 
ing in his heart; his life must hang on the next gain 
he cuts. That niche is his last. 

At the last faint gash he makes, his knife — his 
faithful knife — falls from his little nerveless hand, 
and ringing along the precipice, falls at his mother's 
feet. An involuntary groan of despair runs like a 
death-knell through the channel below, and all is still 
as the grave. At the height of nearly three hundred 
feet, the devoted boy lifts his hopeless heart, and closes 
his eyes to commend his soul to God. 

'Tis but a moment — there ! one foot swings off — he 
is reeling — trembling — toppling over into eternity ! 
Hark ! a shout falls on his ear from above ! The man 
who is lying with half his length over the bridge, has 
caught a glimpse of the boy's head and shoulders. 
Quick as thought the noosed rope is within reach of 
the sinking youth. No one breathes. "With a faint 
convulsive effort, the swooning boy drops his arms 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 159 

into the noose. Darkness comes over him, and with 
the words God — Mother — whispered on his lips just 
loud enough to be heard in heaven — the tightening 
rope lifts him out of his last shallow niche. Not a lip 
moves while he is dangling over that fearful abyss; 
but when a sturdy Virginian reaches down and draws 
up the lad, and holds him up in his arms before the 
tearful, breathless multitude, such shouting — such 
leaping and weeping for joy — never greeted the ear of 
a human being so recovered from the yawning gulf of 
eternity. 

Recollections of my Christmas Tree. 

Charles Dickens. 

This selection is one of great value as a teaching piece. Use it 
to develop naturalness of expression. 

I have been looking on, this evening, at a merry 
company of children assembled round that pretty 
German toy, a Christmas tree. 

Being now at home again, and alone, the only per- 
son in the house awake, my thoughts are drawn back, 
by a fascination which I do not care to resist, to my 
own childhood. Straight in the middle of the room, 
cramped in the freedom of its growth by no encir- 
cling walls or soon-reached ceiling, a shadowy tree 
arises ; and, looking up into the dreamy brightness of 
its top, — for I observe in this tree the singular 
property that it appears to grow downward to- 
ward the earth, — I look into my youngest Christmas 
recollections. 

All toys at first, I find. But upon the branches of 



160 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

the tree, lower down, how thick the books begin to 
hang! Thin books, in themselves, at first, but many 
of them, with deliciously smooth covers of bright red 
or green. What fat black letters to begin with ! 

" A was an archer, and shot at a frog." Of course 
he was. He was an apple-pie also, and there he is ! 
He was a good many things in his time, was A, and 
so were most of his friends, except X, who had so 
little versatility that I never knew him to get beyond 
Xerxes or Xantippe : like Y, who was always confined 
to a yacht or a yew-tree; and Z, condemned forever 
to be a zebra or a zany. 

But now the very tree itself changes, and becomes 
a bean-stalk, — the marvelous bean-stalk by which Jack 
climbed up to the giant's house. Jack, — how noble, 
with his sword of sharpness and his shoes of 
swiftness ! 

Good for Christmas-time is the ruddy color of the 
cloak in which, the tree making a forest of itself for 
her to trip through with her basket, Little Red Rid- 
ing-Hood comes to me one Christmas eve, to give me 
information of the cruelty and treachery of that dis- 
sembling wolf who ate her grandmother, without 
making any impression on his appetite, and then ate 
her, after making that ferocious joke about his teeth. 
She Avas my first love. I felt that if I could have 
married Little Red Riding-Hood I should have 
known perfect bliss. But it was not to be, and there 
was nothing for it but to look out the wolf in the 
Noah's Ark there, and put him late in the procession 
on the table, as a monster who was to be degraded. 

Oh, the wonderful Noah's Ark ! It was not found 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 161 

sea-worthy when put in a washing-tub, and the ani- 
mals were crammed in at the roof, and needed to 
have their legs well shaken down before they could 
be got in even there; and then ten to one but they 
began to tumble out at the door, which was but im- 
perfectly fastened with a wire latch; but what was 
that against it? 

Consider the noble fly, a size or two smaller 
than the elephant; the lady-bird, the butterfly, — all 
triumphs of art! consider the goose, whose feet were 
so small and whose balance was so indiiferent that she 
usually tumbled forward and knocked down all the 
animal creation ! consider Noah and his family, like 
idiotic tobacco-stoppers; and how the leopard stuck 
to warm little fingers; and how the tails of the larger 
animals used gradually to resolve themselves into 
frayed bits of string. 

Hush! Again a forest, and somebody up in a 
tree, — not Robin Hood, not Valentine, not the Yel- 
low Dwarf, — I have passed him and all Mother 
Bunch's wonders without mention, — but an Eastern 
King with a glittering scymitar and turban. It is 
the setting-in of the bright Arabian Nights. 

Oh, now all common things become uncommon 
and enchanted to me! All lamps are wonderful ! all 
rings are talismans! Common flower-pots are full of 
treasure, with a little earth scattered on the top; trees 
are for Ali Baba to hide in; beefsteaks are to throw 
down into the Valley of Diamonds, that the precious 
stones may stick to them, and be carried by the 
eagles to their nests, whence the traders, with loud 
cries, will scare them. All the dates imported come 



162 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

from the same tree as that unlucky one with whose 
shell the merchant knocked out the eye of the genii's 
invisible son. All olives are of the same stock of 
that fresh fruit concerning which the Commander of 
the Faithful overheard the boy conduct the fictitious 
trial of the fraudulent olive-merchant. Yes, on 
every object that I recognize among those upper 
branches of my Christmas tree I see this fairy light ! 
But hark! the Waits are playing, and they break 
my childish sleep ! What images do I associate with 
the Christmas music as I see them set forth on the 
Christmas tree ! Known before all the others, keeping 
far apart from all the others, they gather round my 
little bed. An angel, speaking to a group of shep- 
herds in a field ; some travelers, with eyes uplifted, 
following a star; a baby in a manger; a child in a 
spacious temple, talking with grave men ; a solemn 
figure with a mild and beautiful face, raising a dead 
girl by the hand ; again, near a city gate, calling back 
the son of a widow, on his bier, to life ; a crowd of 
people looking through the opened roof of a chamber 
where he sits, and letting down a sick person on a 
bed, with ropes ; the same, in a tempest, walking on 
the waters ; in a ship, again, on a sea-shore, teaching 
a great multitude ; again, with a child upon his knee, 
and other children around ; again, restoring sight to 
the blind, speech to the dumb, hearing to the deaf, 
health to the sick, strength to the lame, knowledge to 
the ignorant ; again, dying upon a cross, watched by 
armed soldiers, a darkness coming on, the earth begin- 
ning to shake, and only one voice heard, " Forgive 
them, for they know not what they do ! " 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 163 

Encircled by the social thoughts of Christmas time, 
still let the benignant figure of my childhood stand 
unchanged ! In every cheerful image and suggestion 
that the season brings, may the bright star that rested 
above the poor roof be the star of all the Christian 
world ! 

A moment's pause, O vanishing tree, of which the 
lower boughs are dark to me yet, and let me look 
once more. I know there are blank spaces on thy 
branches, where eyes that I have loved have shone 
and smiled, from which they are departed. But, far 
above, I see the Raiser of the dead girl and the wid- 
ow's son, — and God is good ! 



How Mr. Coville counted the Shingles on 
his House. 

James M. Bailey. 

There are men who dispute what they do not under- 
stand. Mr. Coville is such a man. When he heard 
a carpenter say that there were so many shingles on 
the roof of his house, because the roof contained so 
many square feet, Coville doubted the figures; and, 
when the carpenter went away, he determined to test 
the matter, by going up on the roof and counting them. 
And he went up there. He squeezed through the 
scuttle — Coville weighs 230 — and then sat down on 
the roof, and worked his way carefully and deliber- 
ately toward the gutter. When he got part way down, 
he heard a sound between him and the shingles, and 
became aware that there was an interference, some 
11 



164 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

way, in further locomotion. He tried to turn over 
and crawl back, but the obstruction held him. Then 
he tried to move a little, in hopes that the trouble 
would prove but temporary, but an increased sound 
convinced him that either a nail or a sliver had hold 
of his cloth, and that if he would save any of it, he 
must use caution. His folks were in the house, but 
he did not make them hear, and besides he didn't 
want to attract the attention of the neighbors. So he 
sat there until after dark, and thought. It would 
have been an excellent opportunity to have counted 
the shingles, but he neglected to use it. His mind 
appeared to run in other channels. He sat there an 
hour after dark, seeing no one he could notify of his 
position. Then he saw two boys approaching the gate 
from the house, and reaching there, stop. It was 
light enough for him to see that one of the two was 
his son, and although he objected to having the other 
boy know of his misfortune, yet he had grown tired 
of holding on to the roof, and concluded he could 
bribe the strange boy into silence. With this arrange- 
ment mapped out, he took his knife and threw it so 
that it would strike near to the boys and attract their 
attention. It struck nearer than he anticipated. In 
fact, it struck so close as to hit the strange boy on the 
head, and nearly brained him. As soon as he recov- 
ered his equilibrium, he turned on Coville's boy, who, 
he was confident, had attempted to kill him, and in- 
troduced some astonishment and bruises in his face. 
Then he threw him down, and kicked him in the side, 
and banged him on the head, and drew him over into 
the gutter, and pounded his legs, and then hauled him 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 165 

back to the walk again, and knocked his head against 
the gate. And all the while the elder Coville sat on 
the roof, and screamed for the police, but couldn't get 
away. And then Mrs. Coville dashed out with a 
broom, and contributed a few novel features to the 
affair at the gate, and one of the boarders dashed out 
with a double-barreled gun, and hearing the cries from 
the roof, looked up there, and espying a figure which 
was undoubtedly a burglar, drove a handful of shot 
into its legs. With a howl of agony, Coville made a 
plunge to dodge the missiles, freed himself from the 
nail, lost his hold to the roof, and went sailing down 
the shingles with awful velocity, both legs spread out, 
his hair on end, and his hands making desperate but 
fruitless efforts to save himself. He was so fright- 
ened that he lost his power of speech, and when he 
passed over the edge of the roof, with twenty feet of 
tin gutter hitched to him, the boarder gave him the 
contents of the other barrel, and then dove into the 
house to load up again. The unfortunate Coville 
struck into a cherry tree, and thence bounded to the 
ground, where he was recognized, picked up by the 
assembled neighbors, and carried into the house. A 
new doctor is making a good day's wages picking the 
shot out of his legs. The boarder has gone into the 
country to spend the summer, and the junior Coville, 
having sequestered a piece of brick in his handker- 
chief, is laying low for that other boy. He says, that 
before the calm of another Sabbath rests on New 
England, there will be another boy in Danbury who 
can't wear a cap. 



166 outline of elocution. 

Mark Twain's Watch. 

S. L. Clemens. 

Head in a natural, conversational style. Tell the story and you 
will succeed. 

My beautiful new watch had run eighteen months 
without losing or gaining, and without breaking any 
part of its machinery, or stopping. I had come to 
believe it infallible in its judgments about the time 
of day and to consider its constitution and its anatomy 
imperishable. But at last, one night, I let it run 
down. I grieved about it as if it were a recognized 
messenger and forerunner of calamity. But by and by 
I cheered up, set the watch by guess, and commanded 
my bodings and superstitions to depart. Next day I 
stepped into the chief jeweler's to set it by the exact 
time, and the head of the establishment took it out of 
my hand and proceeded to set it for me. Then he 
said, " She is four minutes slow — regulator wants push- 
ing up." I tried to stop him — tried to make him 
understand that the watch kept perfect time. But no ; 
all this human cabbage could see, was, that the watch 
was four minutes slow, and the regulator must be 
pushed up a little ; and so, while I danced around 
him in anguish, and implored him to let the watch 
alone, he calmly and cruelly did the shameful deed. 
My watch began to gain. It gained faster and faster 
day by day. Within the week it sickened to a raging 
fever, and its pulse went up to a hundred and fifty in 
the shade. At the end of two months it had left all 
the timepieces of the town far in the rear, and was a 
fraction over thirteen days ahead of the almanac. It 
was away into November enjoying the snow, while 



DESCKIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 167 

the October leaves were still turning. It hurried up 
house rent, bills payable, and such things, in such a 
ruinous way that I could not abide it. I took it to 
the watch-maker to be regulated. He asked me if I 
had ever had it repaired. I said no, it had never 
needed any repairing. He looked a look of vicious 
happiness and eagerly pried the watch open, and then 
put a small dice box into his eye and peered into its 
machinery. He said it wanted cleaning and oiling, 
besides regulating — come in a week. After being 
cleaned, and oiled, and regulated, my watch slowed 
down to that degree that it ticked like a tolling bell. 
I began to be left by trains, I failed all appointments, 
I got to missing my dinner ; my watch strung out 
three days' grace to four and let me go to protest ; I 
gradually drifted back into yesterday, then day before, 
then into last week, and by and by the comprehension 
came upon me that all solitary and alone I was linger- 
ing along in week before last, and the world was but 
of sight. I seemed to detect in myself a sort of sneak- 
ing fellow-feeling for the mummy in the museum, and 
a desire to swop news with him. I went to a watch- 
maker again. He took the watch all to pieces while 
I waited, and then said the barrel was " swelled." 
He said he could reduce it in three days. After this 
the watch averaged well, but nothing more. For half 
a day it would go like the very mischief, and keep up 
such a barking and wheezing and whooping and 
sneezing and snorting, that I could not hear myself 
think for the disturbance ; and as long as it held out 
there was not a watch in the land that stood any 
chance against it. But the rest of the day it would 



168 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

keep on slowing down and fooling along until all the 
clocks it had left behind caught up again. 

So at last, at the end of twenty-four hours, it 
would trot up to the judges' stand all right and just 
in time. It would show a fair and square average, 
and no man could say it had done more or less than 
its duty. But a correct average is only a mild virtue 
in a watch and I took this instrument to another 
watch-maker. He said the kingbolt was broken. I 
said I was glad it was nothing more serious. To tell 
the plain truth,. I had no idea what the kingbolt was, 
but I did not choose to appear ignorant to a stranger. 
He repaired the kingbolt, but what the watch gained 
in one way it lost in another. It would run awhile 
and then stop awhile, and then run awhile again, and 
so on, using its own discretion about the intervals. 
And every time it went off it kicked back like a 
musket. I padded my breast for a few days, but 
finally took the watch to another watch-maker. He 
picked it all to pieces, and turned the ruin over and 
over under his glass; and then he said there appeared 
to be something the matter with the hair-trigger. 
He fixed it, and gave it a fresh start. It did well 
now, except that always at ten minutes to ten the 
hands would shut together like a pair of scissors, and 
from that time forth they would travel together. 
The oldest man in the world could not make out the 
time of day by such a watch, and so I went again to 
have the thing repaired. This person said that the 
crystal had got bent, and that the mainspring was not 
straight. He also remarked that part of the works 
needed half-soling. He made these things all right, 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 169 

and then my timepiece performed unexceptionably, 
save that now and then she would reel off the next 
twenty-four hours in six or seven minutes, and then 
stop with a bang. I went with a heavy heart to one 
more watch-maker, and looked on while he took her 
to pieces. Then I prepared to cross-question him 
rigidly, for this thing was getting serious. The 
watch had cost two hundred dollars originally, and I 
seemed to have paid out two or three thousand for re- 
pairs. While I waited and looked on I presently 
recognized in this watch-maker an old acquaintance — 
a steamboat engineer of other days, and not a good 
engineer either. He examined all the parts carefully, 
just as the other watch-makers had done, and then 
delivered his verdict with the same confidence of 
manner. 

He said — 

"She makes too much steam — you want to hang 
the monkey-wrench on the safety-valve!" 

I floored him on the spot. 

My uncle William, now deceased, alas! used to 
say that a good horse was a good horse until it had 
run away once, and that a good watch was a good 
watch until the repairers got a chance at it. 



The Night Before Christmas. 

Clement C. Moore. 
Sprightly and joyous in manner, with rapid Rate on parts of 
the selection. An excellent piece for children's entertainments. 

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through 

the house 
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; 



170 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. 
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; 
And mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap, 
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap — 
When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter, 
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter; 
Away to the window I flew like a flash, 
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash, 
The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow, 
Gave a luster of mid-day to objects below; 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, 
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. 
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by 

name : 
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and 

Vixen ! 
On, Comet! on, Cupid ! on, Dunder and Blitzen! 
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall ! 
Now, dash away, dash away, dash away all ! " 
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, 
So, up to the house-top the coursers they flew, 
With a sleigh full of toys — and St. Nicholas, too 
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof 
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof; 
As I drew in my head, and was turning around, 
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came w r ith a bound. 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 171 

He was dressed all in far from his head to his foot, 
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and 

soot: 
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, 
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack; 
His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how 

merry — 
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry; 
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow ! 
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. 
He was chubby and plump — a right jolly old elf; 
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. 
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, 
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, 
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, 
And laying his finger aside of his nose, 
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, 
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle; 
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, 
" Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night." 



The Night After Christmas. 

Anonymous. 
A companion piece to "The Night Before Christmas." Eead 
in a similar manner. 

Twas the night after Christmas, when all through 

the house 
Every soul was a-bed and as still as a mouse; 



172 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

The stockings, so lately St. Nicholas' care, 
Were emptied of all that was eatable there; 
The darlings had duly been tucked in their beds, 
With very full stomachs and pains in their heads. 
I was dozing away in my new cotton cap, 
And Nancy was rather far gone in a nap, 
When out in the nursery there arose such a clatter, 
I sprang from my sleep, crying, "What is the 

matter?" 
I flew to each bedside, still half in a doze, 
Tore open the curtains and threw off the clothes, 
While the light of a candle served clearly to show 
The piteous plight of the objects below; 
For what to the father's fond eye should appear 
But the little pale face of each sick little dear, 
For each pet that had crammed itself as full as a tick 
I knew in a moment now felt like Old Nick. 
Their pulses were rapid, their breathings the same; 
What their stomachs rejected I '11 mention by name : 
Now turkey, now stuffing, plum-pudding of course, 
And custards, and crullers, and cranberry sauce. 
Before outraged Nature all went to the wall — 
Yes; lollypops, flapdoodle, dinner and all. 
Like pellets which urchins from pop-guns let fly, 
Went figs, nuts and raisins, jams, jelly and pie, 
Till each error of diet was brought to my view, 
To the shame of mamma and Santa Claus, too. 
I turned from the sight, to my bed-room stepped 

back, 
And brought out a vial marked "Pure Ipecac," 
When my Nancy exclaimed, for their sufferings 

shocked her, 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 173 

"Don't you think you had better, love, go for the 

doctor?" 
I went, and was scarcely back under my roof, 
When I heard the sharp clatter of old " Jalap's" 

hoof; 
I might say that I hardly had turned myself round, 
"When the doctor came into the room with a bound. 
He was covered with mud from his head to his foot, 
And the suit he had on was his very best suit; 
He hardly had time to put that on his back, 
And he looked like a Falstaff half-fuddled with sack. 
His eyes, how they twinkled! Had the doctor got 

merry ? 
His cheeks looked like Port and his breath smelt 

like Sherry; 
He had n't been shaved for a fortnight or so, 
And his beard nor his skin was n't as " white as 

the snow;" 
But inspecting their tongues, in spite of their teeth, 
And drawing his watch from his waistcoat beneath, 
He felt each pulse, saying, "Each little fellow 
Must get rid"— here he laughed — "of the rest of 

that jelly." 
I gazed on each chubby, plump, sick little elf, 
And groaned, when he said so, in spite of myself; 
But a wink of his eye, when he physicked our Fred, 
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 
He did n't prescribe, but he went straight to his 

work, ' 
And dosed all the rest, gave his trousers a jerk, 
And adding directions, while blowing his nose, 
He buttoned his coat, from his chair he arose. 



174 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Then jumped in his gig, gave old "Jalap" a whistle, 
And "Jalap" dashed off as though pricked by a 

thistle ; 
But the doctor exclaimed, as he drove out of sight 
" They '11 be all well to-morrow. Good-night, 

Jones ! Good-night ! " 



Bob Cratchit's Christmas Dinner. 

Charles Dickens. 

This selection, from the "Christmas Carol," must be given 
in a conversational voice, and with a full appreciation of the 
circumstances. 

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. 
Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity, 
and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's 
content. 

"As good as gold," said Bob, "'and better. Some- 
how he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much, 
and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He 
told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw 
him in the church, because he was a cripple; and it 
might be pleasant to them to remember, upon Christ- 
mas day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind 
men see." 

Bob's voice was tremulous w T hen he told them this, 
and trembled more when he said that Tiny Tim was 
growing strong and hearty. 

His active little crutch was heard upon the floor; 
and back came Tiny Tim, before another word was 
spoken, escorted by his brother and sister to his stool 



DESCEIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 175 

beside the fire; and while Bob, turning up his 
cuffs, — as if, poor fellow ! they were capable of being 
made more shabby, — compounded some hot mixture 
in a jug with gin and lemons, and stirred it round 
and round, and put it on the hob to simmer. Master 
Peter and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to 
fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in 
high procession. 

Such a bustle ensued, that you might have thought 
a goose the rarest of all birds, a feathered phenome- 
non, to which a black swan was a matter of course ; 
and, in truth, it was something very like it in that 
house. Mrs. Cratch it made the gravy, ready before- 
hand in a little saucepan, hissing hot; Master Peter 
mashed the potatoes with incredible vigor; Miss 
Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted 
the hot plates ; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a 
tiny corner at the table ; the two young Cratchits set 
chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and, 
mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons 
into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose 
before their turn came to be helped. At last the 
dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was suc- 
ceeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratch it, look- 
ing slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to 
plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when 
the long-expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one 
murmur of delight arose all round the board; and 
even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, 
beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and 
feebly cried, " Hurrah ! " 

There never was such a goose! Bob said he 



176 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

did n't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. 
Its tenderness and flavor, size and cheapness, were 
the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by 
apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient 
dinner for the whole family: indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit. 
said with great delight, surveying one small atom of 
a bone upon the dish, they hadn't ate it all at last! 
Yet every one had had enough; and the youngest 
Cratchits, in particular, were steeped in sage and 
onions to the eyebrows. But now, the plates being 
changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room 
alone, — too nervous to bear witnesses, — to take the 
pudding up, and bring it in. 

Suppose it should not be done enough ! Suppose it 
should break in turning out! Suppose somebody 
should have got over the wall of the back yard, and 
stolen it, while they were merry with the goose, — a 
supposition at which the two young Cratchits became 
livid. All sorts of horrors were supposed. 

Hallo ! A great deal of steam ! The pudding was 
out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! 
That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house 
and a pastry-cook's next door to each other, with a 
laundress's next door to that! That was the pud- 
ding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered — 
flushed, but smiling proudly — with the pudding, like 
a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in 
half of half a quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight 
with Christmas holly stuck into the top. 

Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and 
calmly, too, that he regarded it as the greatest suc- 
cess achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. 



DESCRIPTIVE SELECTIONS. 177 

Mrs. Cratchit said that, now the weight. was off her 
mind, she would confess she had her doubts about the 
quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say 
about it ; but nobody said or thought it was at all a 
small pudding for a large family. It would have 
been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have 
blushed to hint at such a thing. 

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was 
cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The 
compound in the jug being tasted, and considered 
perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table,, 
and a shovelful of chestnuts on the fire. Then all 
the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what 
Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and 
at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of 
glass, — two tumblers and a custard-cup without a, 
handle. 

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as, 
well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob 
served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts 
on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob 
proposed : — 

"A merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God 
bless us!" 

Which all the family reechoed. 

" God bless us every one ! " said Tiny Tim the last 
of all. 



178 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



DIDACTIC SELECTIONS. 



Good Reading. 

Extract from an address by Prof. John S. Hart, LL. D., late 
Lecturer on Shakespeare, in the National School of Elocution and 
Oratory. 

There is one accomplishment, in particular, which I 
would earnestly recommend to you. Cultivate assidu- 
ously the ability to read well. I stop to particularize 
this, because it is a thing so very much neglected, and 
because it is so elegant, charming, and lady-like an 
accomplishment. Where one person is really inter- 
ested by music, twenty are pleased by good reading. 
Where one person is capable of becoming a skillful 
musician, twenty may become good readers. Where 
there is one occasion suitable for the exercise of musi- 
cal talent, there are twenty for that of good reading. 

The culture of the voice necessary for reading well, 
gives a delightful charm to the same voice in conver- 
sation. Good reading is the natural exponent and 
vehicle of all good things. It is the most effective 
of all commentaries upon the works of genius. It 
seems to bring dead authors to life again, and makes 
us sit down familiarly with the great and good of all 
ages. 

Did you ever notice what life and power the Holy 
Scriptures have when well read? Have you ever 
heard of the wonderful effects produced by Elizabeth 
Fry on the criminals of Newgate, by simply reading 
to them the parable of the Prodigal Son ? Princes 
and peers of the realm, it is said, counted it a privi- 



DIDACTIC SELECTIONS, 179 

lege to stand in the dismal corridors, among felons 
and murderers, merely to share with them the privi- 
lege of witnessing the marvelous pathos which gen- 
ius, taste, and culture could infuse into that simple 
story. 

What a fascination there is in really good reading ! 
What a power it gives one ! In the hospital, in the 
chamber of the invalid, in the nursery, in the domes- 
tic and in the social circle, among chosen friends and 
companions, how it enables you to minister to the 
amusement, the comfort, the pleasure, of dear ones, as 
no other art or accomplishment can. ~No instrument 
of man's devising can reach the heart as does that 
most wonderful instrument, the human voice. It is 
God's special gift and endowment to his chosen creat- 
ures. Fold it not away in a napkin. 

If you would double the value of all your other 
acquisitions, if you would add immeasurably to your 
own enjoyment of others, cultivate, with incessant 
care, this divine gift. No music below the skies is 
equal to that of pure, silvery speech from the lips of 
a man or woman of high culture. 



The Demagogue. 

JJ. W Beecher. 
Observe the most careful conversational style. 

The lowest of politicians is that man who seeks to 
gratify an invariable selfishness by pretending to seek 
the public good. For a profitable popularity he ac- 
commodates himself to all opinions, to all dispositions, 
to every side, and to every prejudice. He is a mirror, 
12 



180 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

with no face of its own, but a smooth surface from 
which each man of ten thousand may see himself re- 
flected. 

He glides from man to man, coinciding with their 
views, simulating their tastes, and pretending their 
feelings ; with this one he loves a man ; with that one 
he hates the same man ; he favors a law, and he dis- 
likes it ; he approves and opposes ; he is on both sides 
at once, and seemingly wishes that he could be on one 
side more. He attends meetings to suppress intemper- 
ance, — but at elections makes every grog-shop free to 
all drinkers. He can with equal relish plead most 
eloquently for temperance, or toss off a dozen glasses 
of whisky in a dirty doggery. 

He thinks that there is a time for every thing, and 
therefore at one time he jeers and leers, and swears 
with a carousing blackguard crew ; and at another 
time, professing to have been happily converted, he 
displays all the various features of devotion. In- 
deed, he is a capacious Christian — an epitome of faith. 

He piously asks the class-leader of the welfare of 
his charge, for he was always a Methodist, and always 
will be, — until he meets a Presbyterian ; then he is a 
Presbyterian, Old School or New, as the case requires ; 
however, as he is not a bigot, he can afford to be a 
Baptist in a good Baptist neighborhood, and with a 
wink he tells the pious elder that he never had one of 
his children baptized, not he ! He whispers to the 
Reformer that he abhors all creeds but Baptism and 
the Bible. After this, room will be found in his 
heart for the fugitive sects also, which come and go 
like clonds in a summer-sky. 



DIDACTIC SELECTIONS. 181 

Upon the stump his tact is no less rare. He roars 
and bawls with courageous plainness, on points about 
which all agree; but on subjects where men differ, his 
meaning is nicely balanced on a pivot that it may dip 
either way. He depends for success chiefly upon 
humorous stories. A glowing patriot telling stories 
is a dangerous antagonist; for it is hard to expose 
the fallacy of a hearty laugh, and men convulsed with 
merriment are slow to perceive in what way an argu- 
ment is a reply to a story : men who will admit that 
he has not a solitary moral virtue, will vote for him, 
and assist him in obtaining the office to which he 
aspires. 

The Young Scholar. 

Charles Dudley Warner. 

I should think myself a criminal, if I said any 
thing to chill the enthusiasm of the young scholar, or 
to dash with any skepticism his longing and his hope. 
He has chosen the highest. His beautiful faith, and 
his aspiration, are the light of life. Without his 
fresh enthusiasm, and his gallant devotion to learn- 
ing, to art, to culture, the world would be dreary 
enough. 

Through him comes the ever-springing inspiration 
in affairs. Baffled at every turn, and driven defeated 
from an hundred fields, he carries victory in himself. 
He belongs to a great and immortal army. Let him 
not be discouraged at his apparent little influence, 
even though every sally of every young life may seem 
like a forlorn hope. No man can see the whole of the 



182 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

battle. It must needs be that regiment after regiment, 
trained, accomplished, gay and high with hope, shall 
be sent into the field, marching on, into the smoke, 
into the fire, and be swept away. The battle swallows 
them, one after the other, and the foe is yet unyield- 
ing, and the ever-remorseless trumpet calls for more 
and more. But not in vain ; for some day, and every 
day, along the line, there is a cry, " They fly, they 
fly ! " And the whole army advances, and the flag is 
planted on an ancient fortress, where it never waved 
before. And even if you never see this, better than 
inglorious camp-following, is it to go in with the 
wasting regiment, to carry the colors up the scope of 
the enemy's works, though the next moment you fall 
and find a grave at the foot of the glacis. 



The Cynic. 

H. W. Beecher. 

Didactic in style. A very excellent practice exercise in ordi- 
nary reading. Articulate and modulate carefully. 

The Cynic is one who never sees a good quality in 
a man, and never fails to see a bad one. He is the 
human owl, vigilant in darkness and blind to light, 
mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game. 

The Cynic puts all human actions into only two 
classes — openly bad, and secretly bad. All virtue, 
and generosity, and disinterestedness, are merely the 
appearance of good, but selfish at the bottom. He 
holds that no man does a good thing except for profit. 
The effect of his conversation upon your feelings is to 
chill and sear them ; to send you away sour and morose. 



DIDACTIC SELECTIONS. 183 

His criticisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately 
upon every lovely thing, like frost upon the flowers. 
If Mr. A. is pronounced a religious man, he will 
reply : yes, on Sundays. Mr. B. has just joined the 
church: certainly; the elections are coming on. The 
minister of the gospel is called an example of dili- 
gence: it is his trade. Such a man is generous: of 
other men's money. This man is obliging: to lull 
suspicion and cheat you. That man is upright : be- 
cause he is green. 

Thus his eye strains out every good quality, and 
takes in only the bad. To him religion is hypocrisy, 
honesty a preparation for fraud, virtue only a want of 
opportunity, and undeniable purity, asceticism. The 
livelong day he will coolly sit with sneering lip, trans- 
fixing every character that is presented. 

It is impossible to indulge in such habitual severity 
of opinion upon our fellow-men, without injuring the 
tenderness and delicacy of our own feelings. A man 
will be what his most cherished feelings are. If he 
encourage a noble generosity, every feeling will be 
enriched by it; if he nurse bitter and envenomed 
thoughts, his own spirit will absorb the poison, and he 
will crawl among men as a burnished adder, whose 
life is mischief, and whose errand is death. 

He who hunts for flowers will find flowers ; and he 
who loves weeds may find weeds. 

Let it be remembered that no man, who is not him- 
self morally diseased, will have a relish for disease in 
others. Reject then the morbid ambition of the Cynic, 
or cease to call vourself a man. 



184 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 



The War Inevitable. 

Patrick Henry. 

This fine declamation is given as an example of Oratorical Oro- 
tund, and, although old, will not be found to be surpassed by any 
more modern selection. Style, earnest. 

They tell us, sir, that we are weak — unable to cope 
with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we 
be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next 
year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and 
when a British guard shall be stationed in every 
house ? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and 
inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual re- 
sistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging 
the delusive phantom of hope until our enemies shall 
have bound us hand and foot ? Sir, we are not weak 
if we make a proper use of those means which the 
God of nature hath placed in our power. 

Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause 
of liberty, and in such a country as that which we 
possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy 
can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight 
our battles alone. There is a just God who presides 
over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up 
friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, 
is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the 
active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. 
If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late 
to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 185 

in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged ! 
Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Bos- 
ton! The war is inevitable, and let it come! I re- 
peat it, sir, let it come ! 

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gen- 
tlemen may cry, " Peace! peace!" but there is no 
peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale 
that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the 
clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already 
in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? What is it 
that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is 
life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at 
the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty 
God ! I know not what course others may take ; but 
as for me, give me liberty, or give me death ! 



The Black Horse and His Rider. 

Charles Sheppard. 
A fine specimen of dramatic Oratory. Kecite with bold vigor 

It was the 7th of October, 1777. Horatio Gates 
stood before his tent, gazing steadfastly upon the two 
armies, now arrayed in order of battle. It was a 
clear, bracing day, mellow with the richness of au- 
tumn. The sky was cloudless; the foliage of the 
woods scarce tinged with purple and gold ; the buck- 
wheat in yonder fields frostened into snowy ripeness. 
But the tread of legions shook the ground; from 
every bush shot the glimmer of the rifle-barrel ; on 
every hill-side blazed the sharpened bayonet. Sud- 



186 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

denly, Gates and his officers were startled. Along 
the height on which they stood, came a rider, upon 
a black horse, rushing toward the distant battle. 
There was something in the appearance of this horse 
and his rider that struck them with surprise. Look I 
he draws his sword, the sharp blade quivers through 
the air — he points to the distant battle, and lo! he 
is gone — gone through those clouds, while his shout 
echoes over the plains. Wherever that black horse 
and his rider went, there followed victory. At last, 
toward the setting of the sun, the crisis of the con- 
flict came. That fortress yonder, on Bemis's Heights, 
must be won or the American cause is lost! That 
cliff is too steep — that death is too certain. The 
officers can not persuade the men to advance. The 
Americans have lost the field. Even Morgan, that- 
iron man among iron men, leans on his rifle and de- 
spairs of the field. But look yonder! In this mo- 
ment when all is dismay and horror, here crashing 
on, comes the black horse and his rider! That rider 
bends upon his steed, his frenzied face covered with 
sweat and dust and blood; he lays his hand upon 
that bold rifleman's shoulder, and, as though living 
fire had been poured into his veins, he seizes his rifle 
and starts toward the rock. And now look! now 
hold your breath, as the black steed crashes up that 
steep cliff. That steed quivers ! he totters ! he falls I 
No! no! Still on, still up the cliff, still on toward 
the fortress. The rider turns his face and shouts, 
"Come on, men of Quebec! come on!" That call 
is needless. Already the bold riflemen are on the 
rock. Now British cannon pour your fires, and lay 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 187 

your dead in tens and twenties on the rock. Now, 
red-coat hirelings, shout your battle-cry if you can ! 
For look! there in the gate of the fortress, as the 
smoke clears away, stands the black horse and his 
rider. That steed falls dead, pierced by a hundred 
balls; but his rider, as the British cry for quarter, 
lifts up his voice and shouts afar to Horatio Gates 
waiting yonder in his tent, "Saratoga is won!" 



Edward Thurlow's Reply to the Duke 
of Grafton. 

My Lords, I am amazed! Yes, my Lords, I am 
amazed at His Grace's speech. The noble Duke can 
not look before him, behind him, nor on either side 
of him, without seeing some noble peer who owes 
his seat in this house to his successful exertions in 
the profession to which I belong. 

Does he not* feel that it is as honorable to owe it 
to these as to being the accident of an accident? 

To all these noble Lords the language of the noble 
Duke is as applicable and as insulting as it is to my- 
self. And yet I do not fear to meet it single and 
alone. 

No one venerates the peerage more than I do, but, 
my Lords, I must say that the peerage solicited me, 
not I the peerage. 

Nay more : I can say, and will say, that as a peer 
of Parliament; as Speaker of this Right Honorable 
House ; as Keeper of the Great Seal ; as Guardian of 
His Majesty's conscience ; as Lord High Chancellor 



188 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

of England ; nay, even in that character alone, in 
which the noble Duke would think it an affront to 
be considered, but which character none can deny 
me — as a man — I am at this time as much respected 
as the proudest peer I now look down upon. 



Extract from Emmett's Vindication. 

Robert Emmett. 
Forensic Oratory; Orotund Quality; Impressive Manner. 

I have been charged with that importance in the 
efforts to emancipate my country, as to be considered 
the keystone of the combination of Irishmen, or, as 
your lordship expressed it, " the life and blood of the 
conspiracy." You do me honor over-much: you 
have given to the subaltern all the credit of a supe- 
rior. There are men engaged in this conspiracy who 
are not only superior to me, but even to your own 
conceptions of yourself, my lord; men, before the 
splendor of whose genius and virtues I should bow 
with respectful deference, and who would think 
themselves dishonored to be called your friend — who 
would not disgrace themselves by shaking your 
blood-stained hand. 

I do not fear to approach the omnipotent Judge, to 
answer for the conduct of my whole life ; and am I to 
be appalled and falsified by a mere remnant of mor- 
tality here? By you, too, who, if it were possible to 
collect all the innocent blood that you have shed in 
your unhallowed ministry in one great reservoir, 
your lordship might swim in it. 



OEATOEICAL SELECTIONS. 189 

Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me 
with dishonor! Let no man attaint my memory, by 
believing that I could have engaged in any cause but 
that of my country's liberty and independence; or 
that I could have become the pliant minion of power 
in the oppression or the miseries of my countrymen. 
The proclamation of the provisional government 
speaks forth our views; no inference can be tortured 
from it to countenance barbarity or debasement at 
home, or subjection, humiliation, or treachery from 
abroad. I would not have submitted to a foreign 
invader for the same reason that I would resist the 
foreign and domestic oppressor; in the dignity of 
freedom, I would have fought upon the threshold of 
my country, and its enemy should enter only by pass- 
ing over my lifeless corpse. Am I, who have lived 
but for my country, and who have subjected myself 
to the dangers of the jealous and watchful oppressor, 
and the bondage of the grave, only to give my 
countrymen their rights, and my country her inde- 
pendence, and am I to be loaded with calumny, and 
not suffered to resent or repel it? No; God forbid! 

If the spirits of the illustrious dead participate in 
the concerns and cares of those who are dear to them 
in this transitory life, O, ever dear and venerated 
shade of my departed father, look down with scrutiny 
upon the conduct of your suffering son ; and see if I 
have even for a moment deviated from those princi- 
ples of morality and patriotism which it was your 
care to instill into my youthful mind; and for which 
I am now to offer up my life. My lords, you are im- 
patient for the sacrifice. The blood which you seek 



190 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

is not congealed by the artificial terrors which sur- 
round your victim; it circulates warmly and unruffled 
through the channels which God created for noble 
purposes, but which you are bent to destroy for 
purposes so grievous that they cry to heaven. 

Be yet patient! I have but a few words more to 
say. I am going to my cold and silent grave: my 
lamp of life is nearly extinguished; my race is run: 
the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its 
bosom ! I have but one request to ask at my depart- 
ure from this world, — it is the charity of its silence ! 
Let no man write my epitaph : for as no man who 
knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not 
prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them, and 
me, repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb re- 
main uninscribed until other times and other men can 
do justice to my character: when my country takes 
her place among the nations of the earth, then, and 
not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done. 



Extract from a Sermon on the Death of 
Abraham Lincoln. 

H. W. Beecher. 

Style, Oratorical orotund ; Movement, deliberate ; Tone, im- 
pressive. 

Republican institutions have been vindicated in 
this experience as they never were before; and the 
whole history of the last four years, rounded up by 
this cruel stroke, seems, in the providence of God, to 
have been clothed, now, with an illustration, with a 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 191 

sympathy, with an aptness, and with a significance, 
stich as we never could have expected nor imagined. 
God, I think, has said, by the voice of this event, to 
all nations of the earth : " Republican liberty, based 
upon true Christianity, is firm as the foundation of 
the globe." 

Even he who now sleeps has, by this event, been 
clothed with new influence. Dead, he speaks to men 
who now willingly hear what before they refused to 
listen to. Now his simple and weighty words will be 
gathered like those of Washington, and your chil- 
dren, and your children's children, shall be taught to 
ponder the simplicity and deep wisdom of utterances 
which, in their time, passed, in party heat, as idle 
words. Men will receive a new impulse of patriot- 
ism for his sake, and will guard with zeal the whole 
country which he loved so well. I swear you, on the 
altar of his memory, to be more faithful to the 
country for which he has perished. They will, as 
they follow his hearse, swear a new hatred to that 
slavery against which he warred, and which, in van- 
quishing him, has made him a martyr and a con- 
queror. I swear you, by the memory of this martyr, 
to hate slavery with an unappeasable hatred. They 
will admire and imitate the firmness of this man, his 
inflexible conscience for the right ; and yet his gentle- 
ness, as tender as a woman's, his moderation of spirit, 
which not all the heat of party could inflame, nor all 
the jars and disturbances of this country shake out of 
its place. I swear you to an emulation of his justice, 
his moderation, and his mercy. 

You I can comfort; but how can I speak to that 



192 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

twilight million to whom his name was as the name 
of an angel of God ? There will be wailing in places 
which no minister shall be able to reach. When, in 
hovel and in cot, in wood and in wilderness, in the 
field throughout the South, the dusky children, who 
looked upon him as that Moses whom God sent be- 
fore them to lead them out of the land of bondage, 
learn that he has fallen, who shall comfort them? O 
thou Shepherd of Israel, that didst comfort thy peo- 
ple of old, to thy care we commit the helpless, the 
long-wrouged, and grieved. 

And now the martyr is moving in triumphal 
march, mightier than when alive. The nation rises 
up at every stage of his coming. Cities and states 
are his pall-bearers, and the cannon beats the hours 
with solemn progression. Dead, dead, dead, he yet 
speaketh. Is Washington dead? Is Hampden dead? 
Is David dead? Is any man that ever was fit to live 
dead? Disenthralled of flesh, and risen in the unob- 
structed sphere where passion never comes, he begins 
his illimitable work. His life now is grafted upon 
the infinite, and will be fruitful as no earthly life can 
be. Pass on, thou that hast overcome! 

Your sorrows, O people, are his peace! Your 
bells, and bands, and muffled drums sound triumph 
in his ear. Wail and weep here ; God makes its echo 
joy and triumph there. Pass on! 

Four years ago, O Illinois! we took from your 
midst an untried man, and from among the people. 
We return him to you a mighty conqueror. Not 
thine any more, but the nation's ; not ours, but the 
world's. Give him place, O ye prairies! 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 193 

In the midst of this great continent his dust shall 
rest, a sacred treasure to myriads who shall pilgrim 
to that shrine to kindle anew their zeal and patriot- 
ism. Ye winds that move over the mighty places of 
the West, chant his requiem! Ye people, behold a 
martyr whose blood, as so many articulate words, 
pleads for fidelity, for law, for liberty! 



Pyramids not all Egyptian. 

P. 0. Barnes. 

An excellent example of imaginative oratory. A selection 
of merit as. a practice piece in declamatory style. 

Mankind are toiling for a deathless name. Various 
are the schemes devised, and the plans pursued, to 
gain this one world-sought end — to rear a pyramid 
that shall not decay, but grow broader and higher 
with "the roll of ages." This is the nucleus of the 
world of thought. At its altar are immolated the 
smile and tear, the swell of delight and revenging 
throb, the sweets of duty, and joys of life, and hopes 
of heaven. No hardships, nor privations, nor sacri- 
fices, but here are freely shrined. Eating the bread 
of sorrow and drinking the tears of mourning, the in- 
dividual world eagerly pursues the phantom of hope 
till death stops the chase and rolls them into the 
tomb. Dreaming of this, the peasant forgets his 
grief, and only seeks to become dear in his own 
circle, though icicles hang from his brow and freeze 
around his heart. 



194 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

The student ekes out his life in midnight thought, 
tumbles into the grave, only craving a wandering 
sigh when years have rolled away. The conspirator 
cuts the bands of civil law, touches the spring of revo- 
lution, and heaves whole empires into a sea of tears, 
that his name may eddy away on the raging billows. 
The warrior builds his pyramid on the bloody battle 
plain ; and where bayonet, and fire, and blood, blend 
their terrors, he deals death with his saber, and flings 
heart's blood at the sun with his glittering blade. 
The moral deceiver erects his in a more solemn 
realm. He blots out the sun of hope, rolls man up 
in self, and pushes a whole world to the doleful 
caverns of an eternal night. And what an illustra- 
tion of this is Mohammed, that form of terror which 
blazed athwart the moral heavens, consumed the vital 
atmosphere, and shrieking with his latest breath, 
" Oh God ! pardon my sins," plunged into the awful 
whirlpool of shoreless remorse. How has the bleak, 
black summit of his pyramid been shattered by the 
scathing fires of heaven's judgment? To give his 
name to posterity, Csesar crossed the Rubicon, and 
Rome was free no more. He built a terrible pyramid 
upon the ruins of the " Eternal City." But think 
you its vast height gave him pride, or availed him 
aught when the cold steel of Brutus' dagger rankled 
in his heart, and poured his blood on the Senate floor 
of Rome? 

To gain an undying name, Alexander drew the 
sword of conquest, lit up the land with burning 
cities, quenched their sighs with tears, extorted the 
sigh of anguish from millions, and then died, seeking 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 195 

to show himself a god. And Bonaparte too, that 
lion, swimming in blood, went over Europe tying 
laurels on his brow with heart-strings, and writing 
his name with his blood-streaming sword, full on the 
thrones and foreheads of kings. The powers of his 
mind, throbbing in midnight dreams, shook the civ- 
ilized world ; and yet the delirious spirit of this 
world-wonderful warrior, whose haughty star with- 
ered kings and whose brow was unawed, whether his 
eagles hovered around the Alps or shrieked amid the 
flames of Moscow, died a powerless prisoner on the 
lonely billow-dashed isle of St. Helena. These have 
gained names more lasting than Egyptian pyramids. 
But oh! the doleful price of their eternal ruin. 
"Who, who can read the history of such men as these 
and then seek a like immortality? May the winds of 
annihilation blow such desires from our earth ! But 
is there no way of gaining a name, noble, glorious, 
immortal? Boundless are the fields, endless are the 
ways, and numberless the examples of pure and heav- 
enly renown. Though the ways which lead to never- 
ending shame are many, there are paths that lead to 
fame, unsullied and undying, up which many great 
minds have toiled unceasing, till death cut the fetters 
and sent them home. 

The scholar, astronomer, poet, orator, patriot, and 
philosopher, all have fields, broad, fertile, perennial. 
The ruins of the "Eternal City" "still breathe, 
bom with Cicero." The story of Demosthenes, with 
his mouth full of pebbles, haranguing the billows of 
old ocean, will be stammered by the school-boy 
*'down to latest time." And after "the foot of 
13 



196 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

time " has trodden down his marble tombstone, and 
strewed his grave with the dust of ages, it w T ill be 
said that nature's orator, Patrick Henry, while ac- 
cused of treason and threatened with death, "hurled 
his crushing thunderbolts " at the haughty form of 
tyranny, and cried, " Give me liberty, or give me 
death ," in accents that burned all over Europe. 

Washington, too, has a pyramid in every American 
heart. When the serpent, tyranny, wrapped his 
freezing folds around our nation's heart, and with ex- 
ulting hisses raised his horrid coils to heaven, then 
Washington hurled a thunderbolt that drove him 
back to molder and rot beneath the crumbling 
thrones of Europe, and sent the startling echo of free- 
dom rumbling around our broad green earth. A fire 
of desolation may kindle in our metropolis and strew 
it in the dust, yea, may burn away our continent with 
all its monuments, but his name will be breathed 
with reverence till the ocean has ceased to heave, and 
time has ceased to be. Our countryman, Franklin,, 
too; look at the pyramid that bears his name, bury- 
ing its mighty summit in the lowering thunder-cloud,, 
while around it the lightnings play and lurk, and 
write " Immortality." Has not Newton a name 
among the immortal? How eagerly did he grasp 
the golden chain, swung from the Eternal Throne, 
and with what intense rapture and thrilling delight 
did he climb upward, vibrate through the concave 
of the skies, gaze around upon the stars, and bathe 
in the glorious sunlight of eternal truth that blazed 
from the center — Deity. 

Can time, or winds, or floods, or fire, destroy 



OEATOBICAL SELECTIONS. 197 

Luther's pyramid ? He reared it by an awful con- 
flict, more terrible than ever hung on the tread of 
an army. The one carries thrones and empires, the 
silent thoughts of the other tell on the destiny of the 
world. Nerved by the Omnipotent, he stood up 
amid the smoke and flash of century-working bat- 
teries, and thundered, " Truth," till the world reeled 
and rocked as if within the grasp of an earthquake. 
Milton, too ; the wave of oblivion may surge over 
the pyramids, yea, may engulf all Africa, but Milton, 
who painted pyramids with heavenly glow, unlocked 
the brazen gates of the fiery gulf, heard its raging 
howl, and saw its maddening billows heave and 
plunge, will strike anew his golden lyre in heaven 
when yonder sun shall stay his fiery wheels mid- 
heaven, sicken, darken, and pitch lawless from his 
flaming chariot into the black chaos of universal ruin. 
Nor is this all. A day is coming when the pyra- 
mids built in blood shall crumble and sink, when 
yonder firmament shall frown in blackness and ter- 
ror, when the judgment fires shall kindle around the 
pillars that stay creation, and rolling their smoke 
and flames upward, fire the entire starry dome, — 
when burning worlds shall fly, and lighten through 
immensity, — when the car of eternity rumbling on- 
ward, shall ever travel over the dismal loneliness 
and bleak desolation of a burned up universe ; and 
then shall the pyramids of the just tower away in 
the sunlight of heaven, while their builders shall 
cull the flowers and pluck the fruits of the perennial 
city,— and to God who created them, and to Christ 
who redeemed them, swell an anthem of praise, in- 



198 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

creasing, louder and deeper, with the ceaseless annals 
of eternity. 

Paul's Defense Before Agrippa. 

Bible. 

Sacred oratory ; very eloquent. Avoid the stereotyped monot- 
ony usual in reading Scripture. Earnestness should characterize 
the reading throughout. 

Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art permitted 
to speak for thyself. Then Paul stretched forth the 
hand, and answered for himself: 

I think myself happy, king Agrippa, because I 
shall answer for myself this day before thee touching 
all the things whereof I am accused of the Jews : 
especially because I know thee to be expert in all 
customs and questions which are among the Jews : 
wherefore I beseech thee to hear me patiently. 

My manner of life from my youth, which was at 
the first among mine own nation at Jerusalem, know 
all the Jews; which knew me from the beginning, if 
they would testify, that after the most straitest sect 
of our religion I lived a Pharisee. And now I stand 
and am judged for the hope of the promise made of 
God unto our fathers : unto which promise our twelve 
tribes, constantly serving God day and night, hope to 
come. For which hope's sake, king Agrippa, I am 
accused of the Jews. 

Why should it be thought a thing incredible with 
you, that God should raise the dead? I verily 
thought with myself, that I ought to do many things 
contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Which 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 199 

thing I also did in Jerusalem: and many of the 
saints did I shut up in prison, having received 
authority from the chief priests ; and when they were 
put to death, I gave my voice against them. And 
I punished them oft in every synagogue, and com- 
pelled them to blaspheme; and being exceedingly 
mad against them, I persecuted them even unto 
strange cities. Whereupon as I went to Damascus 
with authority and commission from the chief priests, 
at mid-day, O king, I saw in the way a light from 
heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shining 
round about me and them which journeyed with me. 
And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a 
voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew 
tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? it is 
hard for thee to kick against the pricks. 

And I said, Who art thou, Lord? And he said, 
I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. But rise, and 
stand upon thy feet : for I have appeared unto thee 
for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a wit- 
ness both of these things which thou hast seen, and 
of those things in the which I will appear unto thee; 
delivering thee from the people, and from the Gen- 
tiles, unto whom now I send thee, to open their eyes, 
and to turn them from darkness to light, and from 
the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive 
forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them 
which are sanctified by faith that is in me. 

Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobedient 
unto the heavenly vision : but showed first unto them 
of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all 
the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that 



'200 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

they should repent and turn to God, and do works 
meet for repentance. For these causes the Jews 
caught me in the temple, and went about to kill me. 
Having therefore obtained help of God, I continue 
unto this day, witnessing both to small and great, 
saying none other things than those which the proph- # 
ets and Moses did say should come: That Christ 
should suffer, and that he should be the first that 
should rise from the dead, and should show light 
unto the people, and to the Gentiles. 

And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with 
a loud voice, Paul, thou art beside thyself; much 
learning doth make thee mad. But he said, I am 
not mad, most noble Festus; but speak forth the 
words of truth and soberness. For the king know- 
eth of these things, before whom also I speak freely : 
for I am persuaded that none of these things are 
hidden from him ; for this thing was not done in a 
corner. King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? 
I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa said unto 
Paul, Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian. 

And Paul said, I would to God, that not only 
thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both 
almost, and altogether such as I am, except these 
bonds. And when he had thus spoken, the king rose 
up, and the governor, and Bernice, and they that sat 
with them: and when they were gone aside, they 
talked between themselves, saying, This man doeth 
nothing worthy of death or of bonds. Then said 
Agrippa unto Festus, This man might have been set 
at liberty, if he had not appealed unto Caesar. 



oratorical selections. 201 

Death-bed of Benedict Arnold. 

Gewge Lippard. 

Bold, vigorous declamation. Delirium in characterization of 
Arnold. Pitch, above medium; quality, orotund. 

Fifty years ago, in a rude garret, near the loneliest 
suburbs of the city of London, lay a dying man. He 
was but half dressed; though his legs were concealed 
in long military boots. An aged minister stood be- 
side the rough couch. The form was that of a strong 
man grown old through care more than age. There 
was a face that you might look upon but once, and 
yet wear it in your memory forever. 

Let us bend over the bed, and look upon that face. 
A bold forehead seamed by one deep wrinkle visible 
between the brows — long locks of dark hair, sprin- 
kled with gray; lips firmly set, yet quivering, as 
though they had a life separate from the life of the 
man ; and then, two large eyes — vivid, burning, un- 
natural in their steady glare. Ay, there was some- 
thing terrible in that face — something so full of 
unnatural loneliness — unspeakable despair, that the 
aged minister started back in horror. But look ! 
those strong arms are clutching at the vacant air : 
the death-sweat stands in drops on that bold brow — 
the man is dying. Throb — throb — throb — beats the 
death-watch in the shattered wall. "Would you die 
in the faith of the Christian?" faltered the preacher, 
as he knelt there on the damp floor. 

The white lips of the death-stricken man trembled, 
but made no sound. Then, with the strong agony 
of death upon him, he rose into a sitting posture. 



202" OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

For the first time he spoke. "Christian!" he echoed 
in that deep tone which thrilled the preacher to the 
heart: "Will that faith give me back my honor? 
Come with me, old man, come with me, far over the 
waters. Ha! we are there! This is my native town. 
Yonder is the church in which I knelt in childhood: 
yonder the green on which I sported when a boy. 
But another flag waves yonder, in place of the flag 
that waved when I was a child. 

"And listen, old man: were I to pass along the 
streets, as I passed when but a child, the very babes 
in their cradles would raise their tiny hands, and 
curse me ! The graves in yonder church -yard would 
shrink from my footsteps ; and yonder flag would 
rain a baptism of blood upon my head ! " 

That was an awful death -bed. The minister had 
watched "the last night" with a hundred convicts in 
their cells, but had never beheld a scene so terrible 
as this. Suddenly the dying man arose : he tottered 
along the floor. With those white fingers, whose 
nails were blue with the death -chill, he threw open 
a valise. He drew from thence a faded coat of blue,, 
faced with silver, and the wreck of a battle-flag. 

"Look ye, priest! this faded coat is spotted with 
my blood ! " he cried, as old memories seemed stir- 
ring at his heart. "This coat I wore when I first 
heard the news of Lexington: this coat I wore when 
I planted the banner of the stars on Ticonderoga ! 
that bullet-hole was pierced in the fight of Quebec ; 
and now, I am a — let me whisper it in your ear ! " 
He hissed that single burning word into the minis- 
ter's ear. " Now help me, priest ! help me to put on 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 203 

this coat of blue; for you see" — and a ghastly smile 
came over his face — "there is no one here to wipe 
the cold drops from my brow : no wife : no child. I 
must meet Death alone ; but I will meet him, as I 
have met him in battle, without a fear!" 

And, while he stood arraying his limbs in that 
worm-eaten coat of blue and silver, the good minis- 
ter spoke to him of faith in Jesus. Yes, of that great 
faith, which pierces the clouds of human guilt, and 
rolls them back from the face of God. " Faith ! " 
echoed that strange man, who stood there erect, with 
the death-chill on his brow — "Faith! Can it give 
me back my honor ? Look ye, priest ! there, over 
the waves, sits George Washington, telling to his 
comrades the pleasant story of the eight years' war : 
there, in his royal halls, sits George of England, be- 
wailing, in his idiotic voice, the loss of his colonies ! 
And here am I! — I, who was the first to raise the 
flag of freedom, the first to strike a blow against that 
king — here am I, dying ! oh, dying like a dog ! " 

The awe-stricken preacher started back from the 
look of the dying man, while throb — throb — throb — 
beats the death-watch in the shattered wall. " Hush ! 
silence along the lines there ! " he muttered, in that 
wild, absent tone, as though speaking to the dead ; 
" silence along the lines ! not a word — not a word, 
on peril of your lives ! Hark you, Montgomery ! we 
will meet in the center of the town : — we will meet 
there in victory, or die! — Hist! silence, my men — 
not a whisper, as we move up those steep rocks! 
Now on, my boys — now on ! Men of the wilderness, 
we will gain the town ! Now up with the banner of 



204 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

the stars — up with the flag of freedom, though the 
night is dark, and the snow falls ! Now ! now, one 
more blow, and Quebec is ours ! " 

And look ! his eye grows glassy. With that word 
on his lips, he stands there — ah ! what a hideous pict- 
ure of despair : erect, livid, ghastly : there for a mo- 
ment, and then he falls ! — he is dead ! Ah, look at 
that proud form, thrown cold and stiff upon the damp 
floor. In that glassy eye there lingers, even yet, a 
horrible energy — a sublimity of despair. Who is this 
strange man lying there alone, in this rude garret: 
this man who, in all his crimes, still treasured up in 
that blue uniform, that faded flag? Who is this be- 
ing of horrible remorse — this man, whose memories 
seem to link something with heaven, and more with 
hell? 

Let us look at that parchment and flag. The aged 
minister unrolls that faded flag: it is a blue banner 
gleaming with thirteen stars. He unrolls that parch- 
ment; it is a colonel's commission in the Continental 
army addressed to Benedict Aenold ! And there, 
in that rude hut, while the death-watch throbbed 
like a heart in the shattered wall : there, unknown, 
unwept, in all the bitterness of desolation, lay the 
corse of the patriot and the traitor. 

Oh that our own true Washington had been there, 
to sever that good right arm from the corse ; and, 
while the dishonored body rotted into dust, to bring 
home that noble arm, and embalm it among the holi- 
est memories of the past. For that right arm struck 
many a gallant blow for freedom : yonder at Ticon- 
deroga, at Quebec, Champlain, and Saratoga— that 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 205 

arm, yonder, beneath the snow white mountains, in 
the deep silence of the river of the dead, first raised 
into light the Banner of the Stars. 



The Philosophy of Sleep. 

A PROFOUND DISQUISITION BY A LEARNED SOPHOMORE. 
G. Walter Bale. 

In looking over the rubbish which remains to show 
my connection with college, I found the following 
masterpiece of philosophical reasoning. The reader 
is entreated not to overlook the exhaustive profun- 
dity of this thesis, as it is looked upon by the author 
as of impenetrable depth. 

Thesis. — The philosophy of sleep. In the eluci- 
dation of the iu numerable contingencies that involve 
the nebular minutiae which coalesce into a single con- 
stituent known as the mundane prosperity of the hu- 
man genus, all the bright and the talented are called 
upon from the elysian fields of ethereal purity to pro- 
pound the theories which form the practical basis of 
every individual's existence. 

The inexhaustible verbiage of all the lexicographers 
known to the race is reduced to the service of these 
benefactors of mankind. 

We are required to-night to discuss a new philoso- 
phy — the mystery of sleep. "To die, to sleep," says 
the immortal Shakespeare. We suppose there are 
many among those present who see the phenomena 
of repose, not as through a glass, obscurely, but oth- 
erwise. We will consequently proceed to ventilate 



206 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

this abstruse subject "from cellar to attic," as Lord 
Bunyan said at the battle of Waterloo, "if it takes 
all summer." 

We will cause our depositions to permeate the cel- 
lular neurological apparatus in so thorough a manner 
as to make the operation of sleeping a matter of the 
most intense interest to all who engage in it. 

We are fearfully and astoundingly manufactured ! 

Physiologists speak of the brain and its ramifications 
and specifications, making them harmonize throughout 
with the circulation of the arterial system, and influ- 
encing their working in direct juxtaposition with the 
diaphragm. 

1st — Sleep is natural. We can not, as in galvan- 
ism, magnetism, or electricity, point out any particu- 
lar man who invented sleep, for Adam is reported to 
have slept; yet Sancho Panza, a Spanish author of 
some repute, says : " Blest be the man who first in- 
vented sleep ! " 

Philosophy advances as well as all other persons 
who indulge in sleep. While it is my privilege to 
edify this assemblage of fellow-philosophers, I wish 
to be as concise and lucid as is in keeping with the 
gravity and dignity of the caption of my thesis. 

2d — Sleep is necessary. Why? Because a con- 
glomeration of the action of the nerves of sensation 
and those of motion would produce that effect which, 
in common parlance, is technically termed asphyxia, 
which would impoverish the gastric glands and con- 
sequently produce that state of things known among 
scientific men as strangulated cerebro-spinal menin- 
gitis. I am certainly understood as treating a very 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 207 

complicated science, and hope that the ideas advanced 
to-night will affect all with a sense of the importance 
of the light which they must be destined to project 
upon a natural operation so little understood, and 
which is now presented in terms so plain and undec- 
orated, and so free from sophistry withal, that the 
masses of mankind may read and understand. 

3d — Sleep is a spontaneous outgrowth. It comes 
under the head of the exact sciences, and is known 
to be a heterogeneous gurgitation. It depends wholly 
upon the eccentric action of the colica pictonum upon 
which it hinges. This subject is almost incapable of 
exhaustion ; yet the deep resources of a far-reaching 
mind can grasp at a single flight the whole supercil- 
iary contents of this somnolescent subject. 

4th — Sleep — Its causes and effects. Now we come 
to the point which caps the climax and enables us 
to retire with eclat from the rostrum as a successful 
thesisser on sleep. 

In examining the causes of repose we find them 
to be purely philosophical and profoundly marvel- 
ous. 

The gustatus auditor ius is situated in such a man- 
ner that it acts as a focus upon the objects which pass 
in mathematical precision before the retina, and they 
are slowly evaporated into a species of dissolving 
view, and the pneumogastric nerves which support 
the curtains which protect the orbs of vision are re- 
fracted and sleep ensues. 

This condition of psychological momentativeness 
gives forth a gyrative action to the visceral agglom- 
eration, and the effect produced by the oscillations 



208 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

of the diaphragmic motor rejuvenates the bioplasm 
and we wake up at once. 



Hekoes of the Land of Penx. 

George Lippard. 

This is a very strong example of Dramatic Oratory. Recite 
with great earnestness and vivid picturing. The action and facial 
expression are very fine. 

Beautiful in her solitary grandeur — fair as a green 
island in a desert waste, proud as a lonely column, 
reared in the wilderness — rises the land of Penn, in 
the history of America. 

Here, beneath the Elm of Shackamaxon, was first 
reared the holy altar of Toleration. Here, from the 
halls of the old State House, was first proclaimed 
that Bible of the rights of man — the Declaration of 
Independence. 

Here William Penn asserted the mild teachings 
of the Gospel, whose every word was Love. Here 
Franklin drew down lightnings from the sky, and 
bent the science of ages to the good of toiling man. 
Here Jefferson stood forth, the consecrated Prophet 
of Freedom, proclaiming from Independence Hall the 
destiny of a Continent, the freedom of a people. 

She has no orator to celebrate her glories, to point 
to her past; she has no Pierpont to hymn her illus- 
trious dead ; no Jared Sparks to chronicle her Revo- 
lutionary grandeur. 

And yet the green fields of Germantown, the twi- 
light vale of the Brandywine, the blood-nurtured soil 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 209 

of Paoli, all have their memories of the past, all are 
stored with their sacred treasures of whitened bones. 
From the far North, old Wyoming sends forth her 
voice — from her hills of grandeur and her valleys 
of beauty, she sends her voice, and at the sound the 
mighty Dead of the land of Penn sweep by, a sol- 
emn pageant of the Past. 

Pennsylvanians, remember that though the Land 
of Penn has no history, yet is her story written on 
her battle-fields. 

Let us go to the battle of Germantown, in the 
dread hour of the retreat, and see how the children 
of Penn died. Let us go there, in the moment when 
Washington and his Generals came back from the 
fight. 

A pause in the din of battle ! The denizens of 
Mount Airy and Chestnut Hill come crowding to 
their doors and windows; the hilly streets are oc- 
cupied by anxious groups of people, who converse 
in low and whispered tones, with hurried gestures, 
and looks of surprise and fear. See yonder group- 
clustered by the road-side ; the gray-haired man, 
with his ear inclined intently toward Germantown^ 
his hands outspread, and his trembling form bent 
with age; the maiden, fair-cheeked, red-lipped, and 
blooming, clad in the peasant costume ; the matron, 
calm, self-possessed, and placid; the boy, with the 
light flaxen hair, the ruddy cheeks, the merry blue 
eyes; — all standing silent and motionless, and list- 
ening, as with a common impulse, for the first news 
of the battle. 

There is a strange silence upon the air. A moment 



210 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

ago, and far off shouts broke on the ear, mingling 
with the thunder of cannon, and the shrieks of the 
terrible musketry ; the earth seems to tremble, and 
far around, the wide horizon is agitated by a thou- 
sand echoes. Now the scene is still as midnight. 
Not a sound, not a shout, not a distant hurrah. 
The anxiety of the group upon the hill becomes 
absorbing and painful. Looks of wonder, at the 
sudden pause of the battle, flit from face to face, 
and then low whispers are heard, and then comes 
another moment of fearful suspense. It is followed 
by a wild, rushing sound to the south, like the 
shrieks of the ocean waves, as they fill the hold of 
the foundering ship, while it sinks far into the lone- 
liness of the seas. 

Then a pause, and again that unknown sound, and 
then the tramp of ten thousand footsteps mingled with 
a wild and indistinct murmur. Tramp, tramp, tramp, 
the air is filled with the sound, and then distinct 
voices break upon the air, and the clatter is borne 
upon the breeze. 

The boy turns to his mother, and asks her who 
has gained the day. Every heart feels vividly that 
the battle is now over, that the account of blood is 
near its close, that the appeal to the God of battles 
has been made. The mother turns her tearful eyes 
to the south ; she can not answer the question. The 
old man, awakened from a reverie, turns suddenly to 
the maiden, and clasps her arm with his trembling 
hands. His lips move, but his tongue is unable to 
syllable a sound. He flings a trembling hand south- 
ward, and speaks his question with the gesture of age. 



ORATOEICAL SELECTIONS. 211 

The battle — the battle — how goes the battle? As he 
makes the gesture, the figure of a soldier is seen rush- 
ing from the mist in the valley below; he comes 
speeding around the bend of the road, he ascends the 
hill, but his steps totter and he staggers to and fro 
like a drunken man. He bears a burden on his 
shoulders — is it the plunder of the fight? is it the 
spoil gathered from the ranks of the dead ? No ! — 
no ! He bears an aged man on his shoulders. 

Both are clad in the blue hunting-shirt, torn and 
tattered and stained with blood, it is true, but still 
you can recognize the uniform of the Revolution. 
The tottering soldier nears the group, he lays the 
aged veteran down by the road-side, and then looks 
around with a ghastly face and a rolling eye. There 
is blood dripping from his attire, his face is begrimed 
with powder and spotted with crimson drops. He 
glances wildly around, and then, kneeling on the sod, 
he takes the hand of the aged man in his own, and 
raises his head upon his knee. 

The battle — the battle — how goes the battle ? The 
group cluster around as they ask the question. The 
young Continental makes no reply, but, gazing upon 
the face of the dying veteran, wipes the beaded drops 
of blood from his forehead. 

" Comrade ! " shrieks the veteran, " raise me on my 
feet; and wipe the blood from my eyes. I would see 
him once again." He is raised upon his feet, and the 
blood is wiped from his eyes. " I see — it is he — it is 
Washington ! Yonder — yonder I see his sword — and 
Anthony Wayne — raise me higher, comrade — all is 
getting dark — I would see — Mad Anthony ! Lift me, 
14 



212 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

comrade — higher, higher — I see him — I see Mad An- 
thony! Wipe the blood from my eyes, comrade, for 
it darkens my sight ; it is dark — it is dark ! " 

And the young soldier held in his arms a lifeless 
corpse. The old veteran was dead. He had fought 
his last fight, fired his last shot, shouted the name of 
Mad Anthony for the last time ; and yet his withered 
hand clenched, with the tightness of death, the broken 
bayonet. 

The battle — the battle — how goes the battle? As 
the thrilling question again rung in his ears, the young 
Continental turned to the group, smiled ghastly, and 
then flung his wounded arm to the south. 

"Lost!" he shrieked, and rushed on his way like 
one bereft of his senses. He had not gone ten steps, 
when he bit the dust of the road-side, and lay ex- 
tended in the face of day, a lifeless corpse. 

So they died; the young hero and the aged veteran, 
children of the Land of Penn! So died thousands of 
their brethren throughout the Continent — Quebec and 
Saratoga, Camden and Bunker Hill, to this hour, re- 
tain their bones! 

Nameless and unhonored, the "Poor Men Heroes " 
of Pennsylvania sleep the last slumber on every bat- 
tle-field of the Revolution. The incident which we 
have pictured is but a solitary page among ten thou- 
sand. In every spear of the grass that grows on our 
battle-fields, in every wild flower that blooms above 
the dead of the Revolution, you read the quiet hero- 
ism of the children of the Land of Penn. 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 213 

POE. • 

L. C. Harris. 

The following oration was delivered at Oberlin, Ohio, May, 
1880, on the occasion of the Inter-State Oratorical Contest between 
the colleges of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Iowa. The 
author was awarded the first prize. The oration is a very fine 
specimen of dramatic oratory. 

There have appeared at different stages of the 
world's history, minds so anomalous in their nature, 
so totally at variance with those surrounding them, 
so unnatural and equivocal in their construction, that 
they have seemed more like errant spirits from the 
world beyond, than those possessing the attributes 
and propensities of common mortals. 

Prominent among the names in this strange order 
of beings occurs that of Edgar Allan Poe. He com- 
bines in a remarkable degree two elements of mind sel- 
dom found united — analysis and imagination. These 
constitute the groundwork of his genius, they are the 
source of his wonderful power. No two faculties could 
be more opposite in their effects. Their union in him 
give to many of his subjects the effect of what can 
only be expressed by the contradictory phrase of the 
spiritually material. He treats the most ideal themes 
in the most realistic manner. He is both poet and 
mathematician. He conceives with all the vividness 
of the former, but he reasons with all the coldness 
and precision of the latter. He is living fire hedged 
in with ice. He reduces the wildest play of passion 
to the most exact order. He unites the severest logic 
to the most exuberant fancy, the heat of passion to 
the coldness of reason. 



214 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

A too .close observance of the poetical and ideal 
part of his nature, has gained for him the appellation 
of dreamer. He has his moods of abstraction, but he 
is not the typical dreamer. His piercing acuteness, 
his minuteness of detail, his subtle distinctions, his 
refined reasonings, all separate him from the purely 
meditative mind. The dreamer is passive ; Poe is 
active. The dreamer diffuses his faculties ; Poe con- 
centrates them. The dreamer revels in the mysteri- 
ous ; Poe will have nothing to do with it, only as he 
can explain it. The dreamer surrenders himself to 
contemplation and reverie, till his own individuality 
is lost in that of the objects around him ; Poe never 
loses himself in his abstraction, he is most keenly 
alive when most absorbed. 

Mark the contrast between the strength, clearness, 
and precision of his intellectual, and the wild disor- 
der and disease of his moral and aesthetic faculties. 
He naturally possessed delicate perceptions and re- 
fined sensibilities. But what do we find in his tales? 
A nature attuned to the harmonious and the beauti- 
ful, reveling in all that is discordant and hideous; a 
mind intoxicated by the fiendishness of its own crea- 
tions indulging all that is self-destructive; all the 
natural, genuine emotions of the heart blighted and 
turned awry; hope driven into the icy caves of de- 
spair; joy banished into ray less caverns of gloom; 
poetic fervor turned into maniacal fury ; feeling froz- 
en into frenzy; smiles withered into sneers. In fine, 
the impression produced by these weird compositions 
is that of a demon mounting to a throne of evil emi- 
nence on the wreck of all that is pure and beautiful ; 



ORATORICAL SELECTIONS. 215 

and, having attained it, gazing down with fiendish 
glee upon the ruins below. The diseased condition 
of his mind we see manifested in the unnatural de- 
light he seems to take in dwelling on the subjects of 
death and decay. In one of his tales he says : " I 
have imbibed the shadows of the fallen columns of 
Tadmor, Balbec, and Persepolis, till my very soul 
has become a ruin." That is it. It is always beauty 
and grace dethroned; shattered columns, crumbling 
walls, and tottering arches ; the lingering smile on 
the lips of death ; the false and treacherous bloom 
on the features of disease ; " the gilded halo hover- 
ing round decay," — it is all these, that his morbid 
fancy seizes upon with such greedy avidity. 

He cares nothing for mere external objects only 
as they excite his emotions. Therefore he always 
chooses such subjects as are suggestive of melancholy 
and sadness. He ever represents love as in the icy 
clutches of death, not that he may show his affection 
for the dead ; but rather as a means of gratifying his 
abstract love of grief. He has a morbid craving for 
unnatural sensations. He feeds on mockeries. He 
taunts himself with the hopelessness of his despair, 
and takes a strange delight in this process of self- 
torture. His most intolerable anguish is his keenest 
joy; the more painful his emotion, the more pungent 
his pleasure ; the greater his grief, the more delicious 
his sorrow. 

But how shall we account for this perversion of his 
nature? That a mind should indulge in all that is 
self-destructive, that the very order and nature of 
things should be reversed, that out of cosmos should 



216 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

come chaos, and out of beauty hideousness, seems a 
moral antithesis — inexplicable. The explanation of 
this apparent contradiction is to be found in a pecul- 
iar tendency of his nature — his morbid habit of in- 
trospection. 

Hawthorne — the profoundest moral philosopher that 
America has ever produced — has said, that of all the 
practices in which a mind may indulge, this one of in- 
trospection is the most pernicious. Poe is a slave to it. 
His eyes are ever turning inward to a " heart gnawed 
with anguish." Here within this spiritual laboratory 
he dissects, analyzes, watches. He notes each passing 
breath of emotion. He catches each fluctuating shade 
of feeling. He studies with painful minuteness the 
creeping sensations of crime, guilt, sin, and remorse. 
He pursues with nervous intensity the darkest thoughts 
as they steal stealthily through the chambers of the 
heart. He loves to see the delicate tendrils of the 
soul quiver with agony or pulsate with joy. And it 
was this process of critical self-analysis, this peering 
into the inmost recesses of the soul, this cold ana- 
lytic dissecting of an emotion as the anatomist would 
a nerve, this lying in wait for the play of a passion, 
this trailing a thought through all its tortuous wind- 
ings, — it was this that shattered Poe's sensibilities and 
dulled his perceptions. His characters are but the 
logical sequence of this intense subjective tendency 
of his mind. In none of them can there be found a 
complete and harmonious blending of all the elements 
of mind and soul. They are simply the incarnations 
of a thought, mere abstractions of crime and guilt, 
frenzy and despair clothed with flesh and blood. All 



OKATORICAL SELECTIONS. 217 

their sympathy, love, and fear is absorbed by a single 
animating principle. They have but little to link 
them to humanity, and possess more in common with 
the denizens of hell than with the inhabitants of earth. 

The many conflicting tendencies found in Poe would 
seem to almost justify a belief in the quality of mind. 
He was a strange compound of opposites, a curious 
blending of harmonies and discords. In him "fire 
and frost embrace." At times he was mild, gentle, 
and affable ; again, fierce, passionate, and moody. 
Now he would be charming or electrifying a circle 
of friends by his wonderful eloquence ; and now, 
sitting apart in some secluded retreat, muttering to 
himself in dismal monologues. One moment holding 
you enraptured by his visions of wondrous beauty; 
the next, chaining you, petrified with terror, among 
his dismal phantasms, built up in forms of "gloom- 
iest and ghastliest grandeur." To-day, soaring away 
into the far-off realms of imagination ; to-morrow, 
wandering in the gloomy labyrinths of his own soul. 
"At night, the hero of a drunken debauch; in the 
morning, a wizard of song, whose weird and fitful 
music was like that of the sirens." 

Poe has often been called the Byron of America. 
In many respects they are similar. Both are ego- 
tistical, passionate, arrogant; both have a morbid 
love of melancholy, gloom, and death ; both are the 
victims of passion and diseased self-contemplation. 
Poe resembles Byron in his ethical, but not in his 
mental qualities. Byron is powerful, vigorous, syn- 
thetic; Poe is subtle, acute, analytic. Byron has 
broader comprehension; Poe has keener perception. 



218 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Byron treats of individuals ; Poe only of principles. 
Byron is more objective; Poe more subjective. By- 
ron was driven into his own consciousness by forces 
from without; Poe entered his more from innate ne- 
cessity. Byron is not only conscious of self — he feels 
the gaze of the whole world. Poe forgets the out- 
ward, in his intense concentration on the inward. 
Byron broods over his wrongs ; Poe analyzes his 
emotions. Byron dwells upon his sorrows with mor- 
bid self-pity ; Poe dissects his with frenzied pleasure. 
In other points they stand in closer relation, but still 
remain apart. Byron is cynical, sullen, morose ; Poe 
is gloomy, sorrowful, despondent. Byron is a misan- 
thrope ; Poe is a hypochondriac. Byron wages war 
with all mankind; Poe is ever contending with the 
elements of his own nature. Byron has but little of 
idealism ; Poe has nothing of sensualism. Byron has 
more of humau sympathy ; yet Poe has less of scorn 
and sarcasm. Byron's passions come hot and seeth- 
ing from the heart; Poe's are as cold as intellect it- 
self. Byron crushes all sentiment and feeling ; Poe 
reverses them. Byron seems like a "mocking devil, 
laughing at the world in rhyme ; " Poe like the scoff- 
ing demon, exulting in his own fiendishness. 

This, then, is Poe, the saddest, loneliest figure in 
all literature; who gave the cypress to love and the 
myrtle to death ; who sounded the lowest depths of 
wretchedness and laughed at his own misery ; who 
made of life a living death, and chanted the requiems 
of despair over the -dead hopes of his own soul. The 
melancholy and gloom in which he enshrouded him- 
self has tinged with sadness all that he has written or 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 219 

said. No Ode to the " Nightingale " or a Skylark " from 
Poe — his was to the sable-winged " Raven," the type 
of his sorrow. He was ever pursued across life's stage 
by the passions of nature, like Orestes fleeing the 
Furies; and he will ever hold a place in the memory 
of men rather for what he might have been, than for 
what he was. Goethe has been called the poet of the 
universe, Byron the poet of the individual, but Poe 
is the poet of the soul. 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 



The Launching of the Ship. 

H. W. Longfellow. 

As an example for practice in the Orotund Quality the student 
11 find this excellent. Kead in round, full tones of voice. 

" Build me straight, O worthy Master ! 
Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, 
That shall laugh at all disaster, 

And with wave and whirlwind wrestle ! " 

The merchants^ word, 

Delighted, the Master heard ; 

For his heart was in his work, and the heart 

Giveth grace unto every art. 

And with a voice that was full of glee, 

He answered, "Ere long we will launch 

A vessel as goodly, and strong, and staunch 

As ever weathered a wintry sea ! " 



220 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

All is finished ! and at length 

Has come the bridal day 

Of beauty and of strength. 

To-day the vessel shall be launched ! 

With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched ■ 

And o'er the bay, 

Slowly, in all his splendors bright, 

The great sun rises to behold the sight. 

The ocean old, 

Centuries old, 

Strong as youth, as uncontrolled, 

Paces restless to and fro, 

Up and down the sands of gold. 

His beating heart is not at rest ; 

And far and wide, 

With ceaseless flow, 

His beard of snow 

Heaves with the heaving of his breast. 

He waits impatient for his bride. 

There she stands, 

With her foot upon the sands, 

Decked with flags and streamers gay, 

In honor of her marriage-day, 

Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, 

Round her like a veil descending, 

Ready to be 

The bride of the gray, old sea. 

Then the Master, 

With a gesture of command, 

Waved his hand; 

And at the word, 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 221 

Loud and sudden there was heard, 

All around them and below, 

The sound of hammers, blow on blow, 

Knocking away the shores and spurs. 

And see ! she stirs ! 

She starts — she moves — she seems to feel 

The thrill of life along her keel, 

And, spurning with her feet the ground, 

With one exulting, joyous bound, 

She leaps into the ocean's arms ! 

And lo ! from the assembled crowd 

There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, 

That. to the ocean seemed to say, — 

" Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray ; 

Take her to thy protecting arms, 

With all her youth and all her charms ! " 

How beautiful she is ! how fair 

She lies within those arms, that press 

Her form with many a soft caress 

Of tenderness and watchful care ! 

Sail forth into the sea, O ship ! 

Through wind and wave, right onward steer ! 

The moistened eye, the trembling lip, 

Are not the signs of doubt or fear. 

Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State ! 
Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! 
Humanity, with all its fears, 
With all the hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
We know what Master laid thy keel, 
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 



222 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge, and what a heat, 
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 

Fear not each sudden sound and shock ; 

'T is of the wave, and not the rock ; 

'T is but the flapping of the sail, 

And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar, 

In spite of false lights on the shore, 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee ; — 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 

Are all with thee, — are all Avith thee ! 



The Bukial of Moses. 

C. F. Alexander. 

Orotund quality. Slow movement and strong expression of 
feeling. 

By Nebo's lonely mountain, 

On this side Jordan's wave, 
In a vale in the land of Moab, 

There lies a lonely grave ; 
But no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e'er, 
For the angels of God upturned the sod, 

And laid the dead man there. 

That was the grandest funeral 
That ever passed on earth ; 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 223 

But no man heard the tramping, 

Or saw the train go forth ; 
Noiselessly as the daylight 

Comes when the night is done, 
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek 

Grows into the great sun, — 

Noiselessly as the spring-time 

Her crown of verdure weaves, 
And all the trees on all the hills 

Open their thousand leaves, — 
So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of them that wept, 
Silently down from the mountain crown 

The great procession swept. 

Lo ! when the warrior dieth, 

His comrades in the war, 
With arms reversed, and muffled drum, 

Follow the funeral car. 
They show the banners taken, 

They tell his battles won, 
And after him lead his masterless steed, 

While peals the minute gun. 

Amid the noblest of the land 

Men lay the sage to rest, 
And give the bard an honored place, 

With costly marble dressed, 
In the great minster transept, 

Where lights like glories fall, 
And the choir sings, and the organ rings 

Along the emblazoned wall. 



224 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

This was the bravest warrior 

That ever buckled sword ; 
This the most gifted poet 

That ever breathed a word ; 
And never earth's philosopher 

Traced, with his golden pen, 
On the deathless page, truths half so sage 

As he wrote down for men. 

And had he not high honor? 

The hill-side for his pall, 
To lie in state while angels wait, 

With stars for tapers tall ; 
And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, 

Over his bier to wave ; 
And God's own hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him in the grave, — 

In that deep grave, without a name, 

Whence his uncoffined clay 
Shall break again, — O wondrous thought! — 

Before the judgment day; 
And stand, with glory wrapped around, 

On the hills he never trod, 
And speak of the strife that won our life, 

With the incarnate Son of God. 

O lonely tomb in Moab's land ! 

O dark Beth-peor's hill ! 
Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 
God hath his mysteries of grace, — 

Ways that we can not tell ; 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 225 

He hides them deep, like the secret sleep 
Of him he loved so well. 



God. 

Derzhavin. 

The following poem is a translation from the Russian. It has 
been translated into Japanese, by order of the Emperor, and is 
hung up, embroidered with gold, in the temple of Jeddo. It has 
also been translated into the Chinese and Tartar languages, writ- 
ten on a piece of rich silk, and suspended in the Imperial palace 
at Pekin. 

O thou eternal One ! whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide ; 
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight ; 
Thou only God ! There is no God beside ! 
Being above all beings ! Three-in-one ! 
Whom none can comprehend, and none explore ; 
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone ; 
Embracing all — supporting — ruling o'er — 
Being whom we call God — and know no more ! 

In its sublime research, philosophy 
May measure out the ocean deep — may count 
The sands or the sun's rays — but God ! for Thee 
There is no weight nor measure ; — none can mount 
Up to Thy mysteries. Reason's brightest spark, 
Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try 
To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark ; 
And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high — 
E'en like past moments in eternity. 

Thou from primeval nothingness didst call, 
First chaos, then existence ; — Lord ! on Thee 



226 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Eternity had its foundation ; — all 

Sprung forth from Thee ; — of light, joy, harmony, 

Sole origin ; — all life, all beauty, Thine. 

Thy word created all, and doth create ; 

Thy splendor fills all space with rays divine : 

Thou art, and wert, and shalt be ! Glorious, 

Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate ! 

Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround ; 
Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath ! 
Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, 
And beautifully mingled life and death ! 
As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze, 
So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee, 
And as the spangles in the sunny rays 
Shine around the silver snow, the pageantry 
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise. 

A million torches lighted by Thy hand 
Wander unwearied through the blue abyss; 
They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command, 
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss. 
What shall we call them? Pyres of crystal light— 
A glorious company of golden streams — 
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright — 
Suns lighting systems with their joyful beams? 
But thou to these art as the noon to night. 

Yes ! as a drop of water in the sea, 
All this magnificence in Thee is lost ; — 
What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee ? 
And what am I then ? Heaven's unnumbered host, 
Though multi plied by myriads, and arrayed 
In all the glory of sublimest thought, 
Is but an atom in the balance weighed 



OROTUND SELECTIONS. 227 

Against Thy greatness, — is a cipher brought 
Against infinity ! What am I then ? Naught ! 
Naught ! But the effluence of Thy light divine, 
Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too ; 
Yes, in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine, 
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. 

Naught ! but I live, and on hope's pinions fly 
Eager toward Thy presence ; for in Thee 
I live, and breathe, and dwell ; aspiring high 
Even to the throne of Thy divinity. 
I am, O God ! and surely Thou must be ! 
Thou art ! directing, guiding all, Thou art ! 
Direct my understanding then to Thee ; 
Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart ; 
Though but an atom midst immensity, 
Still I am something, fashioned by Thy hand ! 
I hold a middle rank, 'twixt heaven and earth, 
On the last verge of mortal being stand, 
Close to the realm where angels have their birth, 
Just on the boundaries of the spirit land ! 
The chain of being is complete in me ; 
In me is matter's last gradation lost, 
And the next step is spirit — Deity ! 
I can command the lightning and am dust! 
A monarch, and a slave ; a worm, a god ! 
Whence came I here, and how ? so marvelously 
Constructed and conceived ? Unknown ! this clod 
Lives surely through some higher energy ; 
For from itself alone it could not be ! 
Creator, yes ! Thy wisdom and Thy word 
Created me ! Thou source of life and good ! 
Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord ! 
15 



228 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Thy light, Thy love, in the bright plenitude, 
Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring 
Over the abyss of death, and bade it wear 
The garments of eternal day, and wing 
Its heavenly flight beyond the little sphere, 
Even to its source— to Thee— its author there. 

Oh thoughts ineffable ! Oh visions blest ! 
Though worthless our conception all of Thee, 
Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast, 
And waft its homage to Thy Deity. 
God! thus alone my lonely thoughts can soar; 
Thus seek Thy presence— Being wise and good, 
Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore ; 
And, when the tongue is eloquent no more, 
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude. 

Ossian's Address to the Sun. 

This is one of the finest examples for practice of the Orotund 
Quality of voice, for which specific purpose it is placed here. 

O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of 
my fathers! whence are thy beams, O Sun? thy ev- 
erlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful 
beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the 
moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. 
But thou thyself movest alone : who can be a com- 
panion of thy course? 

The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains 
themselves decay with years ; the ocean shrinks and 
grows again ; the moon herself is lost in the heav- 
ens ; but thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the 
brightness of thy course. 



MODULATION. 229 s 

When the world is dark with tempests, when thun- 
ders roll and lightnings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty 
from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to 
Ossian thou look'st in vain; for he beholds thy beams 
no more, whether thy yellow hair flows on the east- 
ern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. 

But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season; thy 
years will have an end. Thou wilt sleep in .thy 
clouds, careless of the voice of the morning. Exult, 
then, O Sun, in the strength of thy youth — age is 
dark and unlovely; it is like the glimmering light 
of the moon when it shines through broken clouds, 
and the mist is on the hills, the blast of the north 
is on the plains, the traveler shrinks in the midst 
of his journey. 



SELECTIONS KEQUIRING DELICATE 
MODULATION. 



An Order for a Picture. 

Alice Cary. 

Bead in simple, pure quality of voice, with the greatest freedom 
from reading style. Modulate very delicately. The four lines be- 
ginning, " Bright his hair was," etc., presents skips of an octave in 
the modulation. 

O good painter, tell me true, 

Has your hand the cunning to draw 
Shapes of things that you never saw? 

Ay ? Well, here is an order for you. 



230 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Woods and corn-fields, a little brown, — 
The picture must not be over-bright, 
Yet all in the golden and gracious light 
Of a cloud, when tHe summer sun is down. 
Alway and alway, night and morn, 
Woods upon woods, with fields of corn 
Lying between them, not quite sere, 
And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom, 
When the wind can hardly find breathing-room 

Under their tassels, — cattle near, 
Biting shorter the short green grass, 
And a hedge of sumach and sassafras, 
With bluebirds twittering all around, — 
Ah, good painter, you can't paint sound ! 

These, and the house where I was born, 
Low and little, and black and old, 
With children, many as it can hold, 
All at the windows, open wide, — 
Heads and shoulders clear outside, 
And fair young faces all a-blush ; 

Perhaps you may have seen, some day, 
Roses crowding the self-same way, 
Out of a wilding, wayside bush. 

Listen closer. When you have done 

With woods and corn-fields and grazing herds, 
A lady, the loveliest ever the sun 
Looked down upon, you must paint for me; 
Oh, if I only could make you see 

The clear blue eyes, the tender smile, 
The sovereign sweetness, the gentle grace, 
The woman's soul, and the angePs face 



MODULATION. 231 

That are beaming on me all the while, 
I need not speak these foolish words: 
Yet one word tells you all I would say, — 
She is my mother : you will agree 

That all the rest may be thrown away. 

Two little urchins at her knee 
You must paint, sir; one like me, 
The other with a clearer brow, 

And the light of his adventurous eyes 

Flashing with boldest enterprise; 
At ten years old he went to sea, — 

God knoweth if he be living now ; 

He sailed in the good ship " Commodore, "— 
Nobody ever crossed her track 
To bring us news, and she never came back. 

Ah, 'tis twenty long years and more 
Since that old ship went out of the bay 

With my great-hearted brother on her deck ; 

I watched him till he shrank to a speck, 
And his face was toward me all the way. 
Bright his hair was, a golden brown, 

The time we stood at our mother's knee; 
That beauteous head, if it did go down, 

Carried sunshine into the sea! 

Out in the fields one summer night 

We were together, half afraid 

Of the corn-leaves' rustling, and of the shade 
Of the high hills, stretching so still and far, — 
Loitering till after the low little light 

Of the candle shone through the open door, 



232 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

And over the haystack's pointed top, 
All of a tremble, and ready to drop 

The first half- hour, the great yellow star, 

That we, with staring, ignorant eyes, 
Had often and often watched to see 

Propped and held in its place in the skies 
By the fork of a tall red mulberry tree, 

Which close in the edge of our flax-field grew, — 
Dead at the top, — -just one branch full 
Of leaves, notched round, and lined with wool, 

From which it tenderly shook the dew 
Over our heads, when we came to play 
In its handbreadth of shadow, day after day. 

Afraid to go home, sir; for one of us bore 
A nest full of speckled and thin-shelled eggs ; 
The other, a bird, held fast by the legs, 
Not so big as a straw of wheat ; 
The berries we gave her she wouldn't eat, 
But cried and cried, till we held her bill, 
So slim and shining, to keep her still. 

At last we stood at our mother's knee. 

Do you think, sir, if you try, 

You can paint the look of a lie? 

If you can, pray have the grace 

To put it solely in the face 
Of the urchin that is likest me ; 

I think 'twas solely mine, indeed; 
But that 's no matter, — paint it so ; 

The eyes of our mother — take good heed — 
Looking not on the nestful of eggs, 



MODULATION. 233 

Nor the fluttering bird, held so fast by the legs, 
But straight through our faces, down to our lies, 
And oh, with such injured, reproachful surprise! 
I felt my heart bleed where that glance went, as though 
A sharp blade struck through it. 

You sir, know 
That you on the canvas are to repeat 
Things that are fairest, things most sweet, — 
Woods and corn-fields and mulberry tree, — 
The mother, — the lads, with their bird, at her knee ; 

But, oh, that look of reproachful woe ! 
High as the heavens your name I '11 shout, 
If you paint me the picture, and leave that out. 



Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 

J. H. Pixley. 

Conversational. Tone of delightful purity, modulation very 
delicate, utterance natural. 

Two brown heads with tossing curls, 
Red lips shutting over pearls, 
Bare feet, white and wet with dew, 
Two eyes black, and two eyes blue; 
Little girl and boy were they, 
Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 

They were standing where a brook, 
Bending like a shepherd's crook, 
Flashed its silver, and thick ranks 
Of willow fringed its mossy banks; 
Half in thought, and half in play, 
Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 



234 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

They had cheeks like cherry red; 
He was taller — 'most a head ; 
She, with arms like wreaths of snow, 
Swung a basket to and fro 
As they loitered, half in play, 
Katie Lee and Willie Gray. 

" Pretty Katie," Willie said— 
And there came a dash of red 
Through the brownness of his cheek — 
" Boys are strong and girls are weak, 
And I'll carry, so I will, 
Katie's basket up the hill." 

Katie answered with a laugh, 
"You shall carry only half;" 
And then, tossing back her curls, 
"Boys are weak as well as girls." 
Do you think that Katie guessed 
Half the wisdom she expressed ? 

Men are only boys grown tall; 
Hearts don't change much after all ; 
And when, long years from that day, 
Katie Lee and Willie Gray 
Stood again beside the brook, 
Bending like a shepherd's crook, — 

Is it strange that Willie said, 
While again a dash of red 
Crossed the brownness of his cheek, 
, " I am strong and you are weak ; 

Life is but a slippery steep, 
Hung with shadows cold and deep. 



MODULATION. 235 

"Will you trust me, Katie dear, — 
Walk beside me without fear? 
May I carry, if I will, 
All your burdens up the hill ? " 
And she answered, with a laugh, 
"No, but you may carry half." 

Close beside the little brook, 
Bending like a shepherd's crook, 
Washing with its silver hands 
Late and early at the sands, 
Is a cottage, where to-day 
Katie lives with Willie Gray. 

In the porch she sits, and lo! 
Swinging a basket to and fro — 
Vastly different from the one 
That she swung in years agone; 
This is long and deep and wide, 
And has— rockers at the side. 



The Shadow on the Wall. 

My home a stately dwelling is, 

With lofty arching doors ; 
There is carving on the ceiling high, 

And velvet on the floors : 
A rich and costly building, 

Where noiseless servants wait, 
And 'neath the escutcheon's gilding, 

None enter but the great. 
But a happier home is near it, a humble cottage small, 
And I envy its sweet mistress the shadows on her wall. 



236 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

My pictures are the pride of Art, 
And drawn by cunning hands, 
But painted figures never move, 
Nor change the painted lands; 
Before the poorest window 

More gorgeous pageants glide, 
Within the lowliest household, 
More life-like groups abide ; 
And I turn from soulless symbols, that crowd my 

gloomy hall, 
To watch the shifting shadows upon the cottage wall. 

My stately husband never bends, 

To kiss me on the lips; 
His heart is in his iron safe, 

His thoughts are with his ships; 
But when the twilight gathers 

Adown the dusky street, 
The little housewife listens 

For sounds of coming feet ; 
And by the gleaming firelight I see a figure tall 
Bend down to kiss a shadow, — a shadow on the wall. 

My garden palings, broad and high, 

Shut in its costly spoils, 
And through the ordered paths all day 

The silent gardener toils ; 
My neighbor 's is a grass-plat, 

With a hardy buttercup, 
Where the children's dimpled fingers 

Pull dandelions up. [fall, 

Where on a baby's silken head, all day the sunbeams 
Till evening throws its shadows upon the cottage wall. 



MODULATION. 237 

My petted lapdog, warm and soft, 

Nestles upon my knee ; 
My birds have shut their diamond eyes 

That love to look at me ; 
Lonely, I watch my neighbor, 
And watching can but weep 
To see her rock her darlings 
Upon her breast asleep. 
Alas ! my doves are gentle, my dogs come at my call, 
But there is no childish shadow upon my chamber wall. 

My beauty is the talk of fools ; 
And by the gaslight's glare, 
In glittering dress and gleaming gems, 

I know that I am fair; 
But there is something fairer, 
Whose charm in loving lies. 
And there is something dearer, 
The light of happy eyes. 
So I return triumphant queen of the brilliant ball, 
To envy the sweet shadow of the housewife on the 
wall. 

My earthly lot is rich and high, 

And hers is poor and low; 
Yet I would give my heritage 

Her deeper joys to know; 
For husbands that are lovers 

Are rare in all the lands, 
And hearts grow fit for heaven, 
Molded by childish hands; 
And while I go up lonely, before the Judge of all, 
A cherub troop will usher the shadow on the wall. 



238 outline of elocution. 

The Bridge. 

H. W. Longfellow. 

This reading is a very fine one for a parlor reading where 
the audience is uniformly cultivated to an appreciation of the 
beautiful. 

I stood on the bridge at midnight 

As the clocks were striking the hour, 
And the moon rose o'er the city 

Behind the dark church-tower; 
I saw her bright reflection 

In the waters under me, 
Like a golden goblet falling, 

And sinking into the sea. 

And, in the hazy distance 

Of that lovely night in June, 
The blaze of the flaming furnace 

Gleamed redder than the moon ; 
Among the long, black rafters 

The wavering shadows lay; 
And the current that came from the ocean 

Seemed to lift and bear them away. 

As sweeping and eddying through them, 

Rose the belated tide, 
And streaming into the moonlight, 
, The sea-weed floated wide ; 
And like those waters rushing 

Among the wooden piers, 
A flood of thoughts came o'er me, 

That filled my eyes with tears. 



MODULATION. 239 

How often, oh ! how often, 

In the days that have gone by, 
I had stood on the bridge at midnight, 

And gazed on that moon and sky ! 
How often, oh ! how often, 

I had wished that the ebbing tide 
Would bear me away on its bosom, 

O'er the ocean wild and wide ! 

For my heart was hot and restless, 

And my life was full of care, 
And the burden laid upon me 

Seemed greater than I could bear. 
But now it has fallen from me ; 

It is buried in the sea ; 
And only the sorrow of others 

Throws its shadow over me. 

Yet whenever I cross the river, 

On its bridge with wooden piers, 
Like the odor of brine from the ocean 

Comes the thought of other years ; 
And I think how many thousands 

Of care-encumbered men, 
Each bearing his burden of sorrow, 

Have crossed the bridge since then. 

I see the long procession 

Still passing to and fro, — 
The young heart hot and restless, 

The old subdued and slow ; 
And forever and forever, 



240 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

As long as the river flows, 
As long as the heart has passions, 

As long as life has woes, 
The moon and its broken reflection 

And its shadows shall appear 
As the symbol of love in heaven, 

And its wavering image here. 



SELECTIONS IN SIMPLE PATHOS. 



Pictures of Memory. 

Alice Gary. 

Simple pathos. Modulate delicately. Take pains in the appli- 
cation of the minor slides. 

Among the beautiful pictures 

That hang on Memory's wall, 
Is one of a dim old forest, 

That seemeth best of all. 
Not for its gnarled oaks olden, 

Dark with the mistletoe ; 
Not for the violets golden 

That sprinkle the vale below; 
Not for the milk-white lilies 

That lean from the fragrant ledge, 
Coquetting all day with the sunbeams, 

And stealing their golden edge ; 



SIMPLE PATHOS. 241 

Not for the vines on the upland 
Where the bright red berries rest, 

Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip, 
It seemeth to me the best. 

I once had a little brother 

With eyes that were dark and deep ; 
In the lap of that dim old forest, 

He lieth in peace asleep. 
Light as the down of the thistle, 

Free as the winds that blow, 
We roved there, the beautiful summers, 

The summers of long ago; 
But his feet on the hills grew weary, 

And one of the autumn eves, 
I made for my little brother 

A bed of the yellow leaves. 

Sweetly his pale arms folded 

My neck in a meek embrace, 
As the light of immortal beauty 

Silently covered his face ; 
And when the arrows of sunset 

Lodged in the tree-tops bright, 
He fell, in his saint-like beauty, 

Asleep by the gates of light. 

Therefore, of all the pictures 

That hang on Memory's wall, 
The one of the dim old forest 

Seemeth the best of all. 



242 outline of elocution. 

Over the River. 

Mrs. N. A. W. Priest. 

Simple pathos. Modulate delicately. Feeling very tender and 
utterance effusive. 

Over the river they beckon to me, 

Loved ones who ? ve crossed to the other side ; 
The gleam of their snowy robes I see, 

But their voices are drowned by the rushing tide. 
There 's one with ringlets of sunny gold, 

And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue ; 
He crossed in the twilight gray and cold, 

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view. 
We saw not the angels that met him there — 

The gate of the city we could not see ; 
Over the river, over the river, 

My brother stands waiting to welcome me. 

Over the river the boatman pale 

Carried another, the household pet; 
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale — 

Darling Minnie ! I see her yet ! 
She closed on her bosom her dimpled hands, 

And fearlessly entered the phantom bark ; 
We watched it glide from the silver sands, 

And all our sunshine grew strangely dark. 
We know she is safe on the further side, 

Where all the ransomed and angels be; 
Over the river, flie mystic river, 

My childhood's idol is waiting for me. 

For none return from those quiet shores, 
Who cross with the boatman cold and pale; 



SIMPLE PATHOS. 243 

We hear the dip of the golden oars, 

And catch a glimpse of the snowy sail; 
And lo ! they have passed from our yearning hearts — 

They cross the stream and are gone for aye. 
We may not sunder the vail apart 

That hides from our vision the gates of day; 
We only know that their barks no more 

Sail with us o'er life's stormy sea ; 
Yet somewhere, I know, on the unseen shore, 

They watch, and beckon, and wait for me. 

And I sit and think when the sunset's gold 

Is flushing the river, and hill, and shore, 
I shall one day stand by the waters cold 

And list to the sound of the boatman's oar. 
I shall watch for a gleam of the napping sail ; 

I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand ; 
I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale 

To the better shore of the spirit-land. 
I shall know the loved who have gone before, 

And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, 
When over the river, the peaceful river, 

The angel of death shall carry me. 



" Good-Night, Papa." 

American Messenger. 

Description in a tone of seriousness. Child impersonation deli- 
cate and refined. Manage the pauses and voice carefully in the 
death scene. A very touching recitation. 

The words of a blue-eyed child as she kissed her 
duubby hand and looked down the stairs, "Good- 
night, papa ; Jessie see you in the morning." 
16 



244 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

It came to be a settled thing, and every evening, 
as the mother slipped the white night-gown over the 
plump shoulders, the little one stopped on the stairs 
and sang out, "Good-night, papa," and as the father 
heard the silvery accents of the child, he came, and 
taking the cherub in his arms, kissed her tenderly, 
while the mother's eyes filled, and a swift prayer 
went up, for, strange to say, this man, who loved his 
child with all the warmth of his great noble nature, 
had one fault to mar his manliness. From his youth 
he loved the wine-cup. Genial in spirit, and with a 
fascination of manner that won him friends, he could 
not resist when surrounded by his boon companions. 
Thus his home was darkened, the heart of his wife 
bruised and bleeding, the future of his child shad- 
owed. 

Three years had the winsome prattle of the baby 
crept into the avenues of the father's heart, keeping 
him closer to his home, but still the fatal cup was in 
his hand. Alas for frail humanity, insensible to the 
calls of love ! With unutterable tenderness God saw 
there was no other way ; this father was dear to him, 
the purchase of his Son ; he could not see him perish, 
and calling a swift messenger, he said, " Speed thee 
to earth and bring the babe." 

" Good-night, papa," sounded from the stairs. 
What was there in the voice? was it the echo of the 
mandate, "Bring me the babe?" — a silvery plaintive 
sound, a lingering music that touched the father's 
heart, as when a cloud crosses the sun. " Good- 
night, my darling;" but his lips quivered and his 
broad brow grew pale. "Is Jessie sick, mother? 



SIMPLE PATHOS. 245 

Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes have a strange 
light." 

"Not sick," and the mother stooped to kiss the 
flushed brow; "she may have played too much. Pet 
is not sick?" 

"Jessie tired, mamma; good-night, papa; Jessie 
see you in the morning." 

" That is all, she is only tired," said the mother as 
she took the small hand. Another kiss and the father 
turned away, but his heart was not satisfied. 

Sweet lullabies were sung, but Jessie was restless 
and could not sleep. "Tell me a story, mamma;" 
and the mother told of the blessed babe that Mary 
cradled, following along the story till the child had 
grown to walk and play. The blue, wide-open eyes 
filled with a strange light, as though she saw and 
comprehended more than the mother knew. 

That night the father did not visit the saloon ; toss- 
ing on his bed, starting from a feverish sleep and 
bending over the crib, the long weary hours passed. 
Morning revealed the truth — Jessie was smitten with 
the fever. 

"Keep her quiet," the doctor said; "a few days 
of good nursing, and she will be all right." 

Words easily said ; but the father saw a look on the 
sweet face such as he had seen before. He knew the 
message was at the door. 

Night came. " Jessie is sick ; can't say good-night, 
papa;" and the little clasping fingers clung to the 
father's hand. 

" O God, spare her ! I can not, can not bear it ! " 
was wrung from his suffering heart. 



246 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Days passed; the mother was tireless in her watch- 
ing. With her babe cradled in her arms her heart 
was slow to take in the truth, doing her best to solace 
the father's heart ; " A light case ! " the doctor says, 
'Pet will soon be well.'" 

Calmly as one who knows his doom, the father 
laid his hand upon the hot brow, looked into the eyes, 
even then covered with the film of death, and with all 
the strength of his manhood cried, " Spare her, O 
God ! spare my child, and I will follow thee." 

With a last painful effort the parched lips opened ; 
u Jessie too sick ; can't say good-night, papa — in the 
morning." There was a convulsive shudder, and the 
clasping fingers relaxed their hold ; the messenger had 
taken the child. 

Months have passed. Jessie's crib stands by the 
side of her father's couch ; her blue embroidered dress 
and white hat hang in his closet ; her boots with the 
print of the feet just as she last wore them, as sacred 
in his eyes as they are in the mother's. Not dead, 
but merely risen to a higher life; while, sounding 
down from the upper stairs, " Good-night, papa, Jessie 
see you in the morning," has been the means of win- 
ning to a better way one who had shown himself deaf 
to every former call. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 247 

STUDIES IN GESTURE. 



Sheridan's Ride. 

T. B. Bead. 

As an example of dramatic recitation this selection has long 
stood among the best. Employ a decisive, vigorous manner of de- 
livery, without rant. Excellent practices in dramatic action occur 
through the piece. 

Up from the South at break of day, 
Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, 
The affrighted air with a shudder bore, 
Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, 
The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, 
Telling the battle was on once more, 
And Sheridan twenty miles away. 

And wider still those billows of war 

Thundered along the horizon's bar ; 

And louder yet into Winchester rolled 

The roar of that red sea uncontrolled, 

Making the blood of the listener cold, 

As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, 

And Sheridan twenty miles away. 

But there is a road from Winchester town, 

A good, broad highway leading down ; 

And there, through the flush of the morning light, 

A steed as black as the steeds of night, 

Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight. 

As if he knew the terrible need, 

He stretched away with his utmost speed ; 



248 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Hills rose and fell ; but his heart was gay, 
With Sheridan fifteen miles away. 

Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering South, 
The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth ; 
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, 
Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. 
The heart of the steed, and the heart of the master 
Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, 
Impatient to be where the battle-field calls; 
Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, 
With Sheridan only ten miles away. 

Under his spurning feet, the road 

Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, 

And the landscape sped away behind 

Like an ocean flying before the wind, 

And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, 

Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire, 

But lo ! he is nearing his heart's desire ; 

He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray, 

With Sheridan only five miles away. 

The first that the General saw were the groups 
Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; 
What was done, — what to do, — a glance told him both, 
And striking his spurs, with a terrible oath, 
He dashed down the line, 'mid a storm of huzzas, 
And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because 
The sight of the master compelled it to pause. 
With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; 
By the flash of his eye, and his red nostril's play, 
He seemed to the whole great army to say, 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 249 

41 I have brought you Sheridan all the way, 
From Winchester down, to save the day." 

Hurrah, hurrah for Sheridan ! 
Hurrah, hurrah for horse and man ! 
And when their statues are placed on high, 
Under the dome of the Union sky, — 
The American soldiers' Temple of Fame, 
There with the glorious General's name 
Be it said in letters both bold and bright : 
" Here is the steed that saved the day 
By carrying Sheridan into the fight, 
From Winchester, — twenty miles away ! " 



The Smack in School. 

W. P. Palmer. 

Kepresent the discomfiture of the bashful youth — made evident 
by tone, look, and action. 

A district school, not far away, 
'Mid Berkshire hills, one winter's day, 
Was humming with its wonted noise 
Of three-score mingled girls and boys. 
Some few upon their tasks intent, 
But more on furtive mischief bent. 
The while the master's downward look 
Was fastened on a copy-book ; 
When suddenly, behind his back, 
Hose sharp and clear a rousing smack ! 
As 't were a battery of bliss 
Let off in one tremendous kiss ! 



250 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

"What's that?" the startled master cries; 

"That, thir," a little imp replies, 

"Wath William Willith, if you pleathe— 

I thaw him kith Thuthanna Peathe ! " 

With frown to make a statue thrill, 

The master thundered, " Hither, Will ! " 

Like wretch overtaken in his track, 

With stolen chattels on his back, 

Will hung his head in fear and shame, 

And to the awful presence came, — 

A great, green, bashful simpleton, 

The butt of all good-natured fun. 

With smile suppressed, and birch upraised, 

The threatener faltered — " I ? m amazed 

That you my biggest pupil, should 

Be guilty of an act so rude ! 

Before the whole set school to boot — 

What evil genius put you to ? t?" 

" 'T was she herself, sir," sobbed the lad, 

"I did not mean to be so bad; 

But when Susannah shook her curls, 

And whispered I was ? fraid of girls, 

And dursn't kiss a baby's doll, 

I couldn't stand it, sir, at all, 

But up and kissed her on the spot ! 

I know — boo-hoo — I ought to not, 

But, somehow, from her looks — boo-hoo—- 

I thought she kind o* wished me to ! n 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 251 

The Main Truck; or, A Leap for Life. 

Colton. 

Depict the anguish of the father faithfully. Be careful to be 
true in the action and the shouting tones. 

Old Ironsides at anchor lay, 

In the harbor of Mahon; 
A dead calm rested on the bay, — 

The waves to sleep had gone ; 
When little Hal, the Captain's son, 

A lad both brave and good, 
In sport, up shroud and rigging ran, 

And on the main truck stood ! 

A shudder shot through every vein, — 

All eyes were turned on high ! 
There stood the boy, with dizzy brain, 

Between the sea and sky ; 
No hold had he above, below ; 

Alone he stood in air : 
To tha^ far height none dared to go, — 

No aid could reach him there. 

We gazed, but not a man could speak, — ■ 

With horror all aghast, — 
In groups, with pallid brow and cheek, 

We watched the quivering mast. 
The atmosphere grew thick and hot, 

And of a lurid hue; — 
As riveted unto the spot, 
Stood officers and crew. 

The father came on deck; — he gasped, 
"OGod; thy will be done!" 



252 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Then suddenly a rifle grasped, 

And aimed it at his son. 
"Jump, far out, boy, into the wave! 

Jump, or I fire," he said; 
"That only chance your life can save; 

Jump, jump, boy!" He obeyed. 

He sunk, — he rose, — he lived, — he moved,- 

And for the ship struck out. 
On board we hailed the lad beloved, 

With many a manly shout. 
His father drew, in silent joy, 

Those wet arms round his neck, 
And folded to his heart his boy, — 

Then fainted on the deck. 



Spartacus to the Gladiators at Capua. 

E. Kellogg. 

Style dramatic; qualities of voice guttural, orotund, and sim- 
ple pure ; feeling intense ; action decisive and forcible. 

Ye call me chief; and ye do well to call him chief 
who, for twelve long years, has met upon the arena 
every shape of man or beast the broad empire of 
Eome could furnish, and who never yet lowered his 
arm. If there be one among you who can say that 
ever, in public fight or private brawl, my actions did 
belie my tongue, let him stand forth and say it. If 
there be three in all your company dare face me on 
the bloody sands, let them come on. And yet I was 
not always thus — a hired butcher, a savage chief of 
still more savage men ! 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 253 

My ancestors came from old Sparta, and settled 
among the vine-clad rocks and citron groves of Cy- 
rasella. My early life ran quiet as the brooks by 
which I sported ; and when, at noon, I gathered the 
sheep beneath the shade, and played upon the shep- 
herd's flute, there was a friend, the son of a neigh- 
bor, to join me in the pastime. We led our flocks 
to the same pasture, and partook together our rustic 
meal. 

One evening, after the sheep were folded, and we 
were all seated beneath the myrtle which shaded our 
cottage, my grandsire, an old man, was telling of 
Marathon and Leuctra; and how, in ancient times, 
a little band of Spartans, in a defile of the mount- 
ains, had withstood a whole army. I did not then 
know what war was ; but my cheeks burned, I knew 
not why, and I clasped the knees of that venerable 
man until my mother, parting the hair from off my 
forehead, kissed my throbbing temples, and bade me 
go to rest, and think no more of those old tales and 
savage wars. That very night the Romans landed on 
our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished me 
trampled by the hoof of the war-horse ; the bleeding 
body of my father flung amid the blazing rafters of 
our dwelling ! 

To-day I killed a man in the arena; and, when I 
broke his helmet-clasps, behold ! he was my friend. 
He knew me, smiled faintly, gasped, and died — the 
same sweet smile upon his lips that I had marked 
when, in adventurous boyhood, we scaled the lofty 
cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and bear them 
home in childish triumph ! I told the pretor that 



254 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

the dead man had been my friend, generous and 
brave; and I begged that I might bear away the 
body, to burn it on a funeral pile, and mourn over 
its ashes. Ay! upon my knees, amid the dust and 
blood of the arena, I begged that poor boon, while 
all the assembled maids and matrons, and the holy 
virgins they call Vestals, and the rabble shouted in 
derision, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome's 
fiercest gladiator turn pale and tremble at sight of 
that piece of bleeding clay! And the pretor drew 
back as I were pollution, and sternly said — "Let the 
carrion rot; there are no noble men but Romans!" 
And so, fellow-gladiators, must you, and so must I, 
die like dogs. 

O Rome! Route! thou hast been a tender nurse to 
me. Ay ! thou hast given to that poor, gentle, timid 
shepherd-lad, who never knew a harsher tone than a 
flute-note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint; taught 
him to drive the sword through plaited mail and links 
of rugged brass, and warm it in the marrow of his 
foe : — to gaze into the glaring eye-balls of the fierce 
Numidian lion even as a boy upon a laughing-girl ! 
And he shall pay thee back, until the yellow Tiber 
is red as frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze thy 
life-blood lies curdled. 

Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are ! The 
strength of brass is in your toughened sinews; but 
to-morrow some Roman Adonis, breathing sweet per- 
fume from his curly locks, shall with his lily fingers 
pat your red brawn, and bet his sesterces upon your 
blood. Hark ! hear ye yon lion roaring in his den ? 
'T is three days since he tasted flesh ; but to-morrow 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 255 

he shall break his fast upon yours — and a dainty meal 
for him ye will be ! 

If ye are beasts, then stand here like fat oxen, 
waiting for the butcher's knife ! If ye are men, — 
follow me ! Strike down yon guard, gain the mount- 
ain passes, and there do bloody work, as did your 
sires at old Thermopylae ! Is Sparta dead ? Is the old 
Grecian spirit frozen in your veins, that you do couch 
and cower like a belabored hound beneath his mas- 
ter's lash ? O comrades ! warriors ! Thracians ! — if 
we must fight, let us fight for ourselves ! If we 
must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors ! If 
we must die, let it be under the clear sky, by the 
bright waters, in noble, honorable battle ! 



Paul Revere's Ride. 

H. W. Longfellow. 

A stirring martial, dramatic description. Excellent for prac- 
tice. Action fine. 

Listen, my children, and you shall hear 

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, 

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five; 

Hardly a man is now alive 

Who remembers that famous day and year. 

He said to his friend — " If the British march 
By land or sea from the town to-night, 
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch 
Of the North-Church tower, as a signal-light — 



256 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

One if by land, and two if by sea; 
And I on the opposite shore will be, 
Ready to ride and spread the alarm 
Through every Middlesex village and farm, 
For the country-folk to be up and to arm." 

Then he said good-night, and with muffled oar 

Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, 

Just as the moon rose over the bay, 

Where swinging wide at her moorings lay 

The Somerset, British man-of-war; 

A phantom ship, with each mast and spar, 

Across the moon, like a prison-bar, 

And a huge, black hulk, that was magnified 

By its own reflection in the tide. 

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street 
Wanders and watches with eager ears, 
Till in the silence around him he hears 
The muster of men at the barrack-door, 
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 
And the measured tread of the grenadiers 
Marching down to their boats on the shore. 

Then he climbed to the tower of the church, 
Up the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, 
To the belfry-chamber overhead, 
And startled the pigeons from their perch 
On the somber rafters, that round him made 
Masses and moving shapes of shade, — 
Up the light ladder, slender and tall, 
To the highest window in the wall, 
Where he paused to listen and look down 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 257 

A moment on the roofs of the quiet town, 
And the moonlight flowing over all. 

Beneath, in the church-yard, lay the dead ; 
In their night-encampment on the hill, 
Wrapped in silence so deep and still 
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, 
The watchful night-wind as it went 
Creeping along from tent to tent, 
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!" 
A. moment only he feels the spell 
Of the place and the hour, the secret dread 
Of the lonely belfry and the dead ; 
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 
On a shadowy something far away, 
Where the river widens to meet the bay — 
A line of black that bends and floats 
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. 

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride, 
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 
Now he patted his horse's side, 
Now gazed on the landscape far and near, 
Then impetuous stamped the earth, 
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 
But mostly he watched with eager search 
The belfry-tower of the old North Church, 
As it rose above the graves on the hill, 
Lonely, and spectral, and somber, and still. 

And lo ! as he looks on the belfry's height, 
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light ! 



258 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight 
A second lamp in the belfry burns! 

A hurry of hoofs in a village-street, 
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 
And beneath from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed that flies fearless and fleet; 
That was all ! And yet, through the gloom and the 
The fate of a nation was riding that night; [light, 
And the spark struck out by that steed in his flight, 
Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 

It was twelve by the village-clock, 

When he crossed the bridge into Medford town, 

He heard the crowing of the cock, 

And the barking of the farmer's dog, 

And felt the damp of the river-fog, 

That rises when the sun goes down. 

It was one by the village-clock, 

When he rode into Lexington. 

He saw the gilded weathercock 

Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 

And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare, 

Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 

As if they already stood aghast 

At the bloody work they would look upon. 

It was two by the village-clock, 

When he came to the bridge in Concord town. 

He heard the bleating of the flock, 

And the twitter of birds among the trees, 



STUDIES IN GESTUEE. 259 

And felt the breath of the morning breeze 
Blowing o'er the meadows brown. 
And one was safe and asleep in his bed 
Who at the bridge would be first to fall, 
Who that day would be lying dead, 
Pierced by a British musket-ball. 

You know the rest. In the books you have read 
How the British regulars fired and fled — 
How the farmers gave them ball for ball, 
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, 
Chasing the red-coats down the lane, 
Then crossing the fields to emerge again 
Under the trees at the turn of the road, 
And only pausing to fire and load. 

So through the night rode Paul Revere; 
And so through the night went his cry of alarm 
To every Middlesex village and farm, — 
A cry of defiance, and not of fear, — 
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, 
And a word that shall echo for evermore! 
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, 
Through all our history, to the last, 
In the hour of darkness, and peril, and need, 
The people will waken and listen to hear 
The hurrying hoof-beat of that steed, 
And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 
17 



260 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE. 

T. B. Macaulay. 

The Consul's brow was sad, and the Consul's speech 

was low, 
And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the 

foe. 
"Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes 

down; 
And if they once may win the bridge, what hope to 

save the town?" 

Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the 

gate ; 
"To every man upon this earth death cometh, soon 

or late. 
Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed 

ye may; 
I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play. 

" In yon straight path a thousand may well be stopped 

' by three. 
Now who will stand on either hand, and keep the 

bridge with me?" 
Then out spake Spurius Lartius — a Rainnian proud 

was he — 
"Lo, I will staud at thy right hand, and keep the 

bridge with thee." 

And out spake strong Herminius — of Titian blood 

was he — 
"I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge 

with thee." 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 261 

"Horatius," quoth the Consul, "as thou sayest, so 

let it be." 
And straight against that great array, forth went the 

dauntless Three. 

Soon all Etruria's noblest felt their hearts sink to 

see 
On the earth the bloody corpses, in the path the 

dauntless Three. 
And from the ghastly entrance, where those bold 

Romans stood, 
The bravest shrank like boys who rouse an old bear 

in the wood. 

But meanwhile axe and lever have manfully been 
plied, 

And now the bridge hangs tottering above the boil- 
ing tide. 

"Come back, come back, Horatius!" loud cries the 
Fathers all : 

"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! back, ere the ruin 
fall!" 

Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back; 
And, as they passed, beneath their feet they felt the 

timbers crack; 
But when they turned their faces, and on the further 

shore 
Saw brave Horatius stand alone, they would have 

crossed once more. 

But, with a crash like thunder, fell every loosened 
beam, 



262 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

And, like a dam, the mighty wreck lay right athwart 

the stream ; 
And a long shout of triumph rose from the walls of 

Rome, 
As to the highest turret-tops was splashed the yellow 

foam. 

And, like a horse unbroken when first he feels the 
rein, 

The furious river struggled hard, and tossed his 
tawny mane, 

And burst the curb, and bounded, rejoicing to be 
free, 

And battlement, and plank, and pier, whirled head- 
long to the sea. 

Alone stood brave Horatius, but constant still in 

mind; 
Thrice thirty thousand foes before, and the broad 

flood behind. 
" Down with him ! " cried false Sextus, with a smile 

on his pale face. 
"Now yield thee/' cried Lars Porsena, "now yield 

thee to our grace." 

Round turned he, as not deigning those craven ranks 

to see; 
Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, to Sextus naught 

spake he; 
But he saw on Palatinus the white porch of his 

home, 
And he spake to the noble river that rolls by the 

towers of Rome. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 263 

" O Tiber ! father Tiber ! to whom the Romans pray, 
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, take thou in charge 

this day ! " 
So he spake, and, speaking, sheathed the good sword 

by his side, 
And, with his harness on his back, plunged headlong 

in the tide. 

No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either 

bank; 
But friends and foes, in dumb surprise, stood gazing 

where he sank. 
And when above the surges they saw his crest appear, 
Rome shouted, and e'en Tuscany could scarce forbear 

to cheer. 

But fiercely ran the current, swollen high by months 

of rain ; 
And fast his blood was flowing; and he was sore in 

pain, 
And heavy with his armor, and spent with changing 

blows ; 
And oft they thought him sinking — but still again 

he rose. 

Never, I ween, did swimmer, in such an evil case, 
Struggle through such a raging flood safe to the 

landing-place : 
But his limbs were borne up bravely by the brave 

heart within, 
And our good father Tiber bare bravely up his chin. 

" Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus; "will not the 
villain drown? 



264 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

But for this stay, ere close of day we should have 
sacked the town ! " 

" Heaven help him ! " quoth Lars Porsena, " and 
bring him safe to shore; 

For such a gallant feat of arms was never seen be- 
fore." 

And now he feels the bottom ; — now on dry earth he 

stands ; 
Now round him throng the Fathers to press his gory 

hands. 
And, now with shouts and clapping, and noise of 

weeping loud, 
He enters through the River Gate, borne by the 

joyous crowd. 



Battle of Fontenoy. 

Thomas Davis. 

Upon the death of Charles VI., Emperor of Austria, in 1740, his 
daughter, Maria Theresa, discovered that the sovereigns of Europe, 
instead of being true to their oaths and to her, made immediate 
claims upon her territories, and prepared to enforce them by open 
hostilities. In a short time the question became an European 
quarrel, to be settled only by the doubtful issue of war. Louis 
XV. of France and Frederick the Great opposed her, whilst Eng- 
land, Holland, Hungary, Bavaria, and Hanover, aided her in the 
protection of those rights which had been guaranteed to her. In 
prosecution of this war, an army of 79,000 men, commanded by 
Marshal Saxe, and encouraged by the presence of both King and 
Dauphin, laid siege to Tournay, early in May, 1745. The Duke of 
Cumberland advanced at the head of 55,000 men, chiefly English 
and Dutch, to relieve the town. After a fearful and bloody battle, 
terribly disastrous to both sides, Louis was about to leave the field. 
In this juncture, Saxe ordered up his last reserve — the Irish Bri- 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 265 

gade. It consisted that day of the regiments of Clare, Lally, Dillon. 
Berwick, Eoth, and Buckley, with Fitz James's horse. O'Brien, 
Lord Clare, was in command. Aided by the French regiments of 
Normandy and Vaisseany, they were ordered to charge upon the 
flank of the English with fixed bayonets without firing. Upon the 
approach of this splendid body of men, the English were halted on 
the slope of a hill, and up that slope the Brigade rushed rapidly 
and in fine order. " They were led to immediate action, and the 
stimulating cry of ' Cuimhnigidh ar Luimneac agus arfheile na Sa- 
canach? [' Bemember Limerick and British faith,'] was re-echoed 
from man to man. The fortune of the field was no longer doubt- 
ful, and victory the most decisive crowned the arms of France." 
The capture of Ghent, Bruges, Ostend, and Oudenarde followed the 
victory of Fontenoy. 

Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the English column 

failed, 
And, twice, the lines of Saint Antoine, the Dutch in 

vain assailed; 
For town and slope were filled with fort and flanking 

battery, 
And well they swept the English ranks, and Dutch 

auxiliary. 
As vainly, through De Barri's wood, the British sol- 
diers burst, 
The French artillery drove them back, diminished, 

and dispersed. 
The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with anxious 

eye, 
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to 

try. 
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals 

ride! 
And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at 

eventide. 



266 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Six thousand English veterans in stately column 
tread, — 

Their cannon blaze in front and flank, Lord Hay is 
at their head; 

Steady they step adown the slope — steady they climb 
the hill; 

Steady they load — steady they fire, moving right on- 
ward still, 

Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as through a furnace 
blast, 

Through rampart, trench, and palisade, and bullets 
showering fast; 

And on the open plain above they rose and kept their 
course, 

With ready fire and grim resolve, that mocked at hos- 
tile force, 

Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy while thinner grow 
their ranks, 

They break, as broke the Zuyder Zee through Hol- 
land's ocean banks. 

More idly than the summer flies, French tirailleurs 
rush round; 

As stubble to the lava tide, French squadrons strew 
the ground; 

Bomb-shell, and grape, and round-shot tore, still on 
they marched and fired — 

Fast from each volley, grenadier and voltigeur retired. 

" Push on, my household cavalry ; " King Louis madly 
cried ; 

To death they rush, but rude their shock — not una- 
venged they died. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 267 

On through the camp the column trod — King Louis 
turns his rein ; 

"Not yet, my liege," Saxe interposed, "the Irish 
troops remain ; " 

And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been a Water- 
loo, 

Were not these exiles ready then, — fresh, vehement, 
and true. 

" Lord Clare," he says, " you have your wish, there 

are your Saxon foes ! " 
The Marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he 

goes! 
How fierce the look these exiles wear, who're wont 

to be so gay, 
The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts 

to-day — 
The treaty broken, ere the ink wherewith 'twas writ 

could dry, 
Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their 

women's parting cry, 
Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their 

country overthrown, — 
Each looks, as if revenge for all were staked on him 

alone. 
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet elsewhere, 
Rushed on to fight a nobler band than these proud 

exiles were. 

O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as, halting, he com^ 

mands, 
" Fix bay'nets — Charge ! " Like mountain-storm, rush 

on these fiery bands. 



268 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Thin is the English column now, and faint their vol- 
leys grow, 

Yet, mustering all the strength they have, they make 
a gallant show. 

They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that bat- 
tle wind — 

Their bayonets the breakers' foam ; like rocks the 
men behind! 

One volley crashes from their line, when, through the 
surging smoke, 

With empty guns clutched in their hands, the head- 
long Irish broke. 

On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce 
huzza ! 

"Revenge! remember Limerick! dash down the Sas- 
senagh ! " 

Like lions leaping at a fold, when mad with hunger's 

pang, 
Right up against the English line the Irish exiles 

sprang; 
Bright was their steel, 'tis bloody now, their guns are 

filled with gore; 
Through shattered ranks, and severed files, and tram- 
pled flags they tore; 
The English strove with desperate strength, paused, 

rallied, staggered, fled — 
The green hill-side is matted close with dying and 

with dead ; 
Across the plain, and far away passed on that hideous 

wrack, 
While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon their track. 



STUDIES IN GESTUEE. 269 

On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun, 
With bloody plumes the Irish stand — the field is 
fought and won ! 



How He Saved St. Michaels. 

Anonymous. 

Style dramatic ; picturing very vivid. Avoid extravagance and 
monotony. 

So you beg for a story, my darling, my brown-eyed 

Leopold, 
And you, Alice, with face like morning, and curling 

locks of gold ; 
Then come, if you will, and listen — stand close beside 

my knee — 
To a tale of the Southern city, proud Charleston by 

the sea. 

It was long ago, my children, ere ever the signal gun 
That blazed above Fort Sumter had wakened the 

North as one ; 
Long ere the wondrous pillar of battle-cloud and fire 
Had marked where the unchained millions marched 
on to their hearts' desire. 

On the roofs and the glittering turrets, that night, as 
the sun went down, 

The mellow glow of the twilight shone like a jeweled 
crown ; 

And bathed in the living glory, as the people lifted 
their eyes, 

They saw the pride of the city, the spire of St. Mich- 
ael's rise 



270 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

High over the lesser steeples, tipped with a golden 
ball, 

That hung like a radiant planet caught in its earth- 
ward fall, — 

First glimpse of home to the sailor who made the 
harbor-round, 

And last slow-fading vision dear to the outward 
bound. 

The gently gathering shadows shut out the waning 
light; 

The children prayed at their bedsides, as you will 
pray to-night; 

The noise of buyer and seller from the busy mart was 
gone; 

And in dreams of a peaceful morrow the city slum- 
bered on. 

But another light than sunrise aroused the sleeping 

street ; 
For a cry was heard at midnight, and the rush of 

trampling feet; 
Men stared in each other's faces through mingled fire 

and smoke, 
While the frantic bells went clashing, clamorous 

stroke on stroke. 

By the glare of her blazing roof-tree the houseless 

mother fled, 
With the babe she pressed to her bosom shrieking in 

nameless dread, 
While the fire-king's wild battalions scaled wall and 

capstone high, 
And planted their flaring banners against an inky sky. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 271 

For the death that raged behind them, and the crash 
of ruin loud, 

To the great square of the city, were driven the surg- 
ing crowd; 

Where yet, firm in all the tumult, unscathed by the 
fiery flood, 

With its heavenward-pointing finger the church of 
St. Michael stood. 

But e'en as they gazed upon it there rose a sudden 
wail, — 

A cry of horror, blended with the roaring of the gale, 

On whose scorching wings up-driven, a single flam- 
ing brand 

Aloft on the towering steeple clung like a bloody 
hand. 

"Will it fade?" The whisper trembled from a thou- 
sand whitening lips; 

Far out on the lurid harbor, they watched it from the 
ships, — 

A baleful gleam that brighter and ever brighter 
shone, 

Like a flickering, trembling will-o'-wisp to a steady 
beacon grown. 

"Uncounted gold shall be given to the man whose 

brave right hand, 
For the love of the periled city, plucks down yon 

burning brand." 
So cried the mayor of Charleston, that all the people 

heard ; 
But they looked each one at his fellow; and no man 

spoke a word. 



272 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Who is it leans from the belfry, with face upturned 

to the sky, 
Clings to a column, and measures the dizzy spire with 

his eye? 
Will he dare it, the hero undaunted, that terrible 

sickening height? 
Or will the hot blood of his courage freeze in his 

veins at the sight? 

But see! he has stepped on the railing; he climbs 
with his feet and his hands ; 

And firm on a narrow projection, with the belfry be- 
neath him, he stands ; 

Now once, and once only, they cheer him, — a single 
tempestuous breath, — 

And there falls on the multitude gazing a hush like 
the stillness of death. 

Slow, steadily mounting, unheeding aught save the 

goal of the fire, 
Still higher and higher, an atom, he moves on the 

face of the spire. 
He stops ! Will he fall ? Lo ! for answer, a gleam 

like a meteor's track, 
And, hurled on the stones of the pavement, the red 

brand lies shattered and black. 

Once more the shouts of the people have rent the 

quivering air; 
At the church-door mayor and council wait with their 

feet on the stair; 
And the eager throng behind them press for a touch 

of his hand, — 



STUDIES IN GESTUEE. 273 

The unknown savior, whose daring could compass a 
deed so grand. 

But why does a sudden tremor seize on them while 

they gaze? 
And what meaneth that stifled murmur of wonder 

and amaze? 
He stood in the gate of the temple he had periled his 

life to save ; 
And the face of the hero, my children, was the sable 

face of a slave! 

With folded arms he was speaking, in tones that were 

clear, not loud, 
And his eyes ablaze in their sockets, burnt into the 

eyes of the crowd ; — 
" You may keep your gold ; I scorn it ! — but answer 

me, ye who can, 
If the deed I have done before you be not the deed 

of a man?" 

He stepped but a short space backward; and from all 

the women and men 
There were only sobs for answer; and the mayor 

called for a pen, 
And the great seal of the city, that he might read who 

ran ; 
And the slave who saved St. Michael's went out from 

its door, a man. 



274 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

The Revolutionary Rising. 

T. B. Read. 

This recitation is a heroic declamation of the first order. Let 
the utterance be bold and vigorous in the dramatic passages. 

Out of the North the wild news came, 
Far flashing on its wings of flame, 
Swift as the boreal light which flies 
At midnight through the startled skies. 
And there was tumult in the air, 

The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat, 
And through the wide land every-where 

The answering tread of hurrying feet ; 
While the first oath of Freedom's gun 
Came on the blast from Lexington; 
And Concord roused, no longer tame, 
Forgot her old baptismal name, 
Made bare her patriot arm of power, 
And swelled the discord of the hour. 

Within its shade of elm and oak 

The church of Berkley Manor stood ; 
There Sunday found the rural folk, 

And some esteemed of gentle blood. 

In vain their feet with loitering tread 
Passed mid the graves where rank is naught 
All could not read the lesson taught 

In that republic of the dead. 

How sweet the hour of Sabbath talk, 
The vale with peace and sunshine full, 

Where all the happy people walk, 

Decked in their homespun flax and wool ; 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 275 

Where youth's gay hats with blossoms bloom ; 
And every maid, with simple art, 
Wears on her breast, like her own heart, 

A bud whose depths are all perfume ; 
While every garment's gentle stir 
Is breathing rose and lavender. 

The pastor came; his snowy locks 

Hallowed his brow of thought and care; 
And calmly, as shepherds lead their flocks, 

He led into the house of prayer. 
Then soon he rose; the prayer was strong; 
The Psalm was warrior David's song; 
The text, a few short words of might — 
4i The Lord of hosts shall arm the right ! " 
He spoke of wrongs too long endured, 
Of sacred rights to be secured ; 
Then from his patriot tongue of flame 
The startling words for Freedom came. 
The stirring sentences he spake 
Compelled the heart to glow or quake, 
And rising on the theme's broad wing, 

And grasping in his nervous hand 

The imaginary battle-brand, 
In face of death he dared to fling 
Defiance to a tyrant king. 

Even as he spoke, his frame, renewed 
In eloquence of attitude, 
Rose, as it seemed, a shoulder higher; 
Then swept his kindling glance of fire 
From startled pew to breathless choir; 
18 



276 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

When suddenly his mantle wide 
His hands impatient flung aside, 
And, lo ! he met their wondering eyes 
Complete in all a warrior's guise. 

A moment there was awful pause — 

When Berkley cried, " Cease, traitor ! cease ! " 

God's temple is the house of peace ! " 

The other shouted, " Nay, not so, 
When God is with our righteous cause ; 
His holiest places then are ours, 
His temples are our forts and towers 

That frown upon the tyrant foe ; 
In this, the dawn of Freedom's day, 
There is a time to fight and pray ! " 

And now before the open door — 
The warrior priest had ordered so — 

The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar 

Rang through the chapel, o'er and o'er, 
Its long reverberating blow. 

So loud and clear, it seemed the ear 

Of dusty death must wake and hear ; 

And there the startling drum and fife 

Fired the living with fiercer life; 

While overhead, with wild increase, 

Forgetting its ancient toll of peace, 

The great bell swung as ne'er before; 

It seemed as it would never cease; 

And every word its ardor flung 

From off its jubilant iron tongue 
Was, "War! War! WAR!" 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 277 

" Who dares ! " — this was the patriot's cry, 

As striding from his desk he came — 

" Come out with me, in Freedom's name, 

For her to live, for her to die ? " 

A hundred hands flung up reply, 

A hundred voices answered, " I ! " 



Independence Bell — July 4, 1776. 

When the Declaration of Independence was adopted by Con- 
gress, the event was announced by ringing the old State-House 
bell, which bore the inscription, " Proclaim liberty throughout the 
land, to all the inhabitants thereof ! " The old bellman stationed 
his little grandson at the door of the hall to await the instructions 
of the door-keeper when to ring. At the word, the young patriot 
rushed out, and, clapping his hands, shouted: — "Ring! King! 
KING!" 

There was a tumult in the city, 

In the quaint old Quaker town, 
And the streets were rife with people 

Pacing restless up and down — 
People gathering at the corners, 

Where they whispered each to each, 
And the sweat stood on their temples 
With the earnestness of speech. 

As the bleak Atlantic currents 

Lash the wild Newfoundland shore, 
So they beat againt the State House, 

So they surged against the door; 
And the mingling of their voices 

Made a harmony profound, 
Till the quiet street of Chestnut 

Was all turbulent with sound. 



278 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

"Will they do it?" "Dare they do it?" 

" Who is speaking ? » " What 's the news ? " 
"What of Adams?" "What of Sherman?" 

" O God grant they won't refuse ! " 
"Make some way there!" "Let me nearer!" 

"I am stifling!" "Stifle, then! 
When a nation's life 's at hazard, 

We've no time to think of men!" 

So they surged against the State House, 

While all solemnly inside 
Sat the " Continental Congress," 

Truth and reason for their guide. 
O'er a simple scroll debating, 

Which, though simple it might be, 
Yet should shake the cliffs of England 

With the thunders of the free. 

Far aloft in that high steeple 

Sat the bellman, old and gray; 
He was weary of the tyrant 

And his iron-sceptered sway ; 
So he sat, with one hand ready 

On the clapper of the bell, 
When his eye should catch the signal, 

The long-expected news, to tell. 

See ! See ! The dense crowd quivers 

Through all its lengthy line, 
As the boy beside the portal 

Hastens forth to give the sign ! 
With his little hands uplifted, 

Breezes dallying with his hair, 



. STUDIES IN GESTURE. 279 

Hark ! with deep, clear intonation, 
Breaks his young voice on the air; 

Hushed the people's swelling murmur, 

Whilst the boy cries joyously; 
" Ring ! " Ring ! grandpapa, 

Ring ! oh, ring for Liberty I " 
Quickly, at the given signal, 

The old bellman lifts his hand, 
Forth he sends the good news, making 

Iron music through the land. 

How they shouted ! What rejoicing ! 

How the old bell shook the air, 
Till the clang of freedom ruffled, 

The calmly gliding Delaware ! 
How the bonfires and the torches 

Lighted up the night's repose, 
And from the flames, like fabled Phoenix, 

Our glorious liberty arose ! 

That old State House bell is silent, 

Hushed is now its clamorous tongue; 
But the spirit it awaken'd 

Still is living — ever young; 
And when we greet the smiling sunlight 

On the fourth of each July, 
We will ne'er forget the bellman 

Who, betwixt the earth and sky, 
Rang out, loudly, " Independence;" 

Which, please God, shall never die ! 



280 outline of elocution. 

The Kearsarge and the Alabama. 

T. B. Read. 

This poem is a fine example of dramatic recitation — on the same 
order as " Sheridan's Hide." Impart vigor to its recitation. 

In Cherbourg Roads the pirate lay, 
One morn in June, like a beast at bay ; 
Feeling secure in the neutral port, 
Under the guns of the Frenchman's fort. 
A thieving vulture, a coward thing, 
Sheltered beneath a despot's wing. 

And there, outside in the calm blue bay, 

Our ocean eagle, the Kearsarge, lay; 

Lay at her ease, on that Sunday morn, 

Holding the Corsair ship in scorn ; 

With captain and crew in the might of their right, 

Willing to pray, but more willing to fight. 

Four bells were struck, and this thing of might, 
Like a panther crouching with fierce affright, 
Must leap from his cover and, come what may, 
Must fight for his life or steal away; 
So out of the port with his braggart air, 
With flaunting flags sailed the proud Corsair. 

The Cherbourg cliffs were all alive 

With lookers-on, like a swarming hive ; 

While compelled to do what he dare not shirk, 

The pirate went to his desperate work. 

And Europe's tyrants looked on in glee 

As they thought of our Kearsarge sunk in the sea. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 281 

But our little bark smiled back at them, 



A smile of contempt, with that Union gem, 
The American banner, far-floating and free, 
Proclaiming our champions were out on the sea, 
Were out on the sea and abroad in the land, 
Determined to win, under God's command. 

Down came the vulture ; our eagle sat still, 
Waiting to strike with his iron-clad bill ; 
Convinced by the glow of his glorious cause, 
He could crumple his foe in the grasp of his claws. 

" Clear the decks ! " then said Winslow, words meas- 
ured and slow. 
" Point the guns and prepare for this terrible blow ; 
And whatever the fate of ourselves may be, 
We will sink in the ocean this pest of the sea." 

The decks were all cleared, the guns were all manned, 
Awaiting to meet this Atlantic brigand ; 
When lo ! roared a broadside ; the ship of the thief 
Was torn and wept blood in that moment of grief. 

Another ! another ! another ! and still 
The broadsides went in with a hearty good will ; 
Till the pirate reeled wildly as staggering and drunk, 
Then down to his own native regions he sunk. 
Down, down, forty fathoms beneath the blue wave, 
And the hopes of old Europe lie in the same grave ; 
While Freedom, more firm, stands upon her own sod, 
And for heroes like Winslow, is shouting, " Thank 
God!" 



282 outline of elocution. 

The Charge of the Light Brigade. 

Alfred Tennyson. 

This selection is a very interesting study in dramatic recitation. 
The action is good and the effect stirring. 

Half a league, half a league, 

Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of death 

Rode the six hundred. 
" Forward, the Light Brigade ! 

Charge for the guns ! " he said. 
Into the valley of death, 

Rode the six hundred. 

" Forward, the Light Brigade ! " 
Was there a man dismayed? 
Not though the soldiers knew 

Some one had blundered ; 
Theirs not to make reply, 
Theirs not to reason why, 
Theirs but to do and die ; 
Into the valley of death, 

Rode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them, 

Volleyed and thundered ; 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode and well ; 
Into the jaws of death, 
Into the mouth of hell, 

Rode the six hundred. 



STUDIES IN GESTURE. 283 

Flashed all their sabers bare, 
Flashed as they turned in air, 
Sab'ring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wondered; 
Plunged in the battery smoke, 
Right through the line they broke; 
Cossack and Russian 
Reeled from the sabre-stroke, 

Shattered and sundered. 
Then they rode back — but not, 

Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them, 

Volleyed and thundered; 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well, 
Came through the jaws of death, 
Back from the mouth of hell, 
All that was left of them, 

Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade? 
O, the wild charge they made! 

All the world wondered. 
Honor the charge they made ! 
Honor the Light Brigade, 

Noble six hundred ! 



284 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 



The Famine. 

H. W. Longfellow. 

Movement deliberate. Invocation of Hiawatha, passionately. 
The "Fever" and the "Famine" in characteristic tones of voice. 
Minnehaha plaintively and despairingly; Nokomis mournfully 
and in a wailing or moaning voice. 

Oh the long and dreary winter ! 
Oh the cold and cruel winter ! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
Froze the ice on lake and river ; 
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, 
Fell the covering snow, and drifted 
Through the forest, round the village. 
Hardly from his buried wigwam 
Could the hunter force a passage ; 
With his mittens and his snow-shoes 
Vainly walked he through the forest, 
Sought for bird or beast and found none, 
Saw no track of deer or rabbit, 
In the snow beheld no footprints, 
In the ghastly, gleaming forest 
Fell, and could not rise from weakness. 
Perished there from cold and hunger. 



'£> v 



Oh the famine and the fever ! 
Oh the wasting of the famine ! 



STUDIES IN IMPEKSONATION. 285 

Oh the blasting of the fever ! 

Oh the wailing of the children ! 

Oh the anguish of the women ! 

All the earth was sick and famished ; 

Hungry was the air around them, 

Hungry was the sky above them, 

And the hungry stars in heaven 

Like the eyes of wolves glared at them. 

Into Hiawatha's wigwam 
Came two other guests, as silent 
As the ghosts were, and as gloomy ; 
Waited not to be invited, 
Did not parley at the door-way, 
Sat there without word of welcome 
In the seat of Laughing Water ; 
Looked with haggard eyes and hollow 
At the face of Laughing Water. 
And the foremost said : " Behold me ! 
I am Famine, Bukadawin ! " 
And the other said : " Behold me ! 
I am Fever, Ahkosewin \" 
And the lovely Minnehaha 
Shuddered as they looked upon her, 
Shuddered at the words they uttered, 
Lay down on her bed in silence, 
Hid her face, but made no answer; 
Lay there trembling, freezing, burning 
At the looks they cast upon her, 
At the fearful words they uttered. 

Forth into the empty forest 
Rushed the maddened Hiawatha : 



286 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

In his heart was deadly sorrow, 

In his face a stony firmness, 

On his brow the sweat of anguish 

Started, but it froze and fell not. 

Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting 

With his mighty bow of ash-tree, 

With his quiver full of arrows, 

With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 

Into the vast and vacant forest 

On his snow-shoes strode he forward. 

"Gitche Manito, the mighty ! " 
Cried he with his face uplifted 
In that bitter hour of anguish, 
"Give your children food, O Father! 
Give us food, or we must perish ! 
Give me food for Minnehaha, 
For my dying Minnehaha ! " 
Through the far-resounding forest, 
Through the forest vast and vacant 
Rang that cry of desolation, 
But there came no other answer 
Than the echo of his crying, 
Than the echo of the woodlands, 
" Minnehaha ! Minnehaha ! " 

All day long roved Hiawatha 
In that melancholy forest, 
Through the shadow of whose thickets, 
In the pleasant days of summer, 
Of that ne'er forgotten summer, 
He had brought his young wife homeward 
From the land of the Dacotahs ; 



STUDIES IN IMPEESONATION. 28 7 

When the birds sang in the thickets, 
And the streamlets laughed and glistened, 
And the air was full of fragrance, 
And the loving Laughing Water 
Said with voice that did not tremble, 
" I will follow you, my husband ! " 

In the wigwam with Nokomis, 
With those gloomy guests that watched her, 
With the Famine and the Fever, 
She was lying, the beloved, 
She the dying Minnehaha. 
" Hark ! " she said, " I hear a rushing, 
Hear a roaring and a rushing, 
Hear the Falls of Minnehaha 
Calling to me from a distance ! " 
" No, my child ! " said old Nokomis, 
" 'Tis the night- wind in the pine-trees ! " 
" Look ! " she said, " I see my father 
Standing lonely at his door-way, 
Beckoning to me from his wigwam 
In the land of the Dacotahs ! " 
" No, my child ! " said old Nokomis, 
" 'Tis the smoke that waves and beckons ! " 
" Ah ! " she said, " the eyes of Paaguk 
Glare upon me in the darkness, 
I can feel his icy fingers 
Clasping mine amid the darkness ! 
Hiawatha ! Hiawatha ! " 

And the desolate Hiawatha, 
Far away amid the forest, 
Miles away among the mountains, 



288 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Heard that sudden cry of anguish, 
Heard the voice of Minnehaha 
Calling to him in the darkness, 
" Hiawatha ! Hiawatha ! " 

Over snow-fields waste and pathless, 
Under snow-encumbered branches, 
Homeward hurried Hiawatha, 
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted, 
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing; 
" Wahonowin ! Wahonowin ! 
Would that I had perished for you, 
Would that I were dead as you are 
Wahonowin ! Wahonowin ! " 
And he rushed into the wigwam, 
Saw the old Nokomis slowly 
Rocking to and fro and moaning, 
Saw his lovely Minnehaha 
Lying dead and cold before him, 
And his bursting heart within him 
Uttered such a cry of anguish 
That the forest moaned and shuddered, 
That the very stars in heaven 
Shook and trembled with his anguish. 

Then he sat down, still and speechless, 
On the bed of Minnehaha, 
At the feet of Laughing Water, 
At those willing feet, that never 
More would lightly run to meet him, 
Never more would lightly follow. 
With both hands his face he covered, 
Seven long days and nights he sat there, 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 289 

As if in a swoon he sat there, 



Speechless, motionless, unconscious 
Of the daylight or the darkness. 

Then they buried Minnehaha ; 
In the snow a grave they made her, 
In the forest deep and darksome, 
Underneath the moaning hemlocks; 
Clothed her in her richest garments, 
Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, 
Covered her with snow, like ermine ; 
Thus they buried Minnehaha. 
And at night a fire was lighted, 
On her grave four times was kindled, 
For her soul upon its journey 
To the Islands of the Blessed. 
From his door-way Hiawatha 
Saw it burning in the forest, 
Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks ; 
From his sleepless bed uprising, 
From the bed of Minnehaha, 
Stood and watched it at the door- way, 
That it might not be extinguished, 
Might not leave her in the darkness. 

" Farewell ! " said he, " Minnehaha ; 
Farewell, O my Laughing Water ! 
All my heart is buried with you, 
All my thoughts go onward with you t 
Come not back again to labor, 
Come not back again to suffer, 
Where the Famine and the Fever 
Wear the heart and waste the body* 



290 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Soon my task will be completed, 
Soon your footsteps I shall follow 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 
To the Land of the Hereafter ! " 



The Vagabonds. 

J. T. Trowbridge. 

This is a selection of rare merit as a characterization. Its mo- 
tive is serious, and the feeling intense. 

We are two travelers, Roger and I. 

Roger's my dog : — come here, you scamp ! 
Jump for the gentlemen, — mind your eye ! 

Over the table, — look out for the lamp ! — 
The rogue is growing a little old; 

Five years we've tramped through wind and weather, 
And slept out-doors when nights were cold, 

And ate and drank— aud starved together. 

We've learned what comfort is, I tell you ! 

A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, 
A fire to thaw our thumbs, — poor fellow ! 

The paw he holds up there's been frozen, — 
Plenty of catgut for my fiddle, — 

This out-door business is bad for strings, — 
Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle, 

And Roger and I set up for kings ! 

No, thank ye, sir, — I never drink ; 

Roger and I are exceedingly moral, — 
Aren't we, Roger ? — see him wink ! — 
' Well, something hot, then, — we won't quarrel. 



STUDIES IN IMPEESONATION. 291 

He's thirsty, too, — see him nod his head? 

What a pity, sir, that dogs can't talk! 
He understands every word that's said, — 

And he knows good milk from Water-and-chalk. 

The truth is, sir, now I reflect, 

I've been so sadly given to grog, 
I wonder I've not lost the respect — 

Here's to you, sir! — even of my dog. 
But he sticks by, through thick and thin ; 

And this old coat, with its empty pockets, 
And rags that smell of tobacco and gin, 

He'll follow while he has eyes in his sockets. 

There isn't another creature living 

Would do it, and prove, through every disaster, 
So fond, so faithful, and so forgiving, 

To such a miserable, thankless master ! 
No, sir! — see him wag his tail and grin! 

By George! it makes my old eyes water! 
That is, there's something in this gin 

That chokes a fellow. But no matter ! 

We '11 have some music, if you 're willing, 

And Roger — hem! what a plague a cough is, sir! — 
Shall march a little. — Start, you villain! 

Stand straight ! 'Bout face ! Salute your officer ! 
Put up that paw ! Dress ! Take your rifle ! — 

Some dogs have arms, you see ! — Now hold your 
Cap while the gentlemen give a trifle, 

To aid a poor old patriot soldier! 

March ! Halt ! Now show how the rebel shakes, 
When he stands up to hear his sentence. 
19 



292 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Now tell us how many drams it takes 

To honor a jolly new acquaintance. 
Five yelps, — that 's five ; he 's mighty knowing I 

The night's before us, fill the glasses ! — 
Quick, sir! I'm ill, — my brain is going! — 

Some brandy! — thank you! — there! — it passes! 

Why not reform? That is easily said; 

But I've gone through such wretched treatment. 
Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread, 

And scarce remembering what meat meant, 
That my poor stomach 's past reform ; 

And there are times when, mad with thinking, 
I 'd sell out heaven for something warm 

To prop a horrible inward sinking. 

Is there a way to forget to think ? 

At your age, sir, home, fortune, friends, 
A dear girl's love, — but I took to drink ; — 

The same old story; you know how it ends. 
If you could have seen these classic features, — 

You needn't laugh, sir; they were not then 
Such a burning libel on God's creatures; 

I was one of your handsome men ! 

If you had seen her, so fair and young, 

Whose head was happy on this breast ! 
If you could have heard the songs I sung 

When the wine went round, you wouldn't have 
guessed 
That ever I, sir, should be straying 

From door to door, with fiddle and dog, 
Ragged and penniless, and playing 

To you to-night for a glass of grog ! 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 293 

She's married since, — a parson's wife ; 

'Twas better for her that we should part, — 
Better the soberest, prosiest life 

Than a blasted home and a broken heart. 
I have seen her? Once; I was weak and spent 

On the dusty road, a carriage stopped ; 
But little she dreamed, as on she went, 

Who kissed the coin that her fingers dropped ! 

You've set me talking, sir ; I'm sorry ; 

It makes me wild to think of the change ! 
What do you care for a beggar's story? 

Is it amusing? you find it strange? 
I had a mother so proud of me ! 

'Twas well she died before Do you know 

If the happy spirits in heaven can see 

The ruin and wretchedness here below? 

Another glass, and strong, to deaden 

This pain ; then Roger and I will start. 
I wonder, has he such a lumpish, leaden, 

Aching thing, in place of a heart? 
He is sad sometimes, and would weep, if he could, 

No doubt, remembering things that were, — 
A virtuous kennel, with plenty of food, 

And himself a sober, respectable cur. 

I'm better now ; that glass was warming, — 

You rascal ! limber your lazy feet ! 
We must be fiddling and performing 

For supper and bed, or starve in the street. — 
Not a very gay life to lead, you think? 

But soon we shall go where lodgings are free, 



294 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

And the sleepers need neither victuals nor drink ; — 
The sooner, the better for Roger and me ! 



The Razor Seller. 

John Wolcot. 

This very amusing recitation has never been as popular as it 
deserves because its proper interpretation has not been common. 
At the line, "Just like a hedger cutting furze," the bumpkin should 
enact in pantomime the process of shaving with all its contingen- 
cies of soaping, whetting the razor, trying and stropping again, 
growing disgusted and trying a new razor, cutting a hair, and so 
on until he shall have become completely enraged. A little inge- 
nuity with this hint will make a capital thing of the " Razor Seller." 
The pantomimic action closes at " Hodge sought the fellow — found 
him — and begun ; " only the bumpkin's language should be repro- 
duced during the pantomime. 

A fellow in a market town, 

Most musical, cried razors up and down, 

And offered twelve for eighteenpence: 
Which certainly seemed wondrous cheap, 
And for the money quite a heap, 

As every man would buy, with cash and sense. 

A country bumpkin the great offer heard ; 

Poor Hodge, who suffered from a stiff black beard, 

That seemed a shoe-brush stuck beneath his nose. 
With cheerfulness the eighteenpence he paid, 
And proudly to himself, in whispers, said, 

" This rascal stole the razors, I suppose. 

" No matter if the fellow be a knave, 
Provided that the razors shave ; 

It certainly will be a monstrous prize." 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 295 

So home the clown, with his good fortune, went, 
Smiling, in heart and soul content, 

And quickly soaped himself to ears and eyes. 

Being well lathered from a dish or tub, 
Hodge now began with grinning pain to grub, 

Just like a hedger cutting furze; 
'Twas a vile razor, — then the rest he tried, — 
All were impostors ; " Ah ! " Hodge sighed, 

"I wish my eighteenpence were in my purse." 
In vain to chase his beard, and bring the graces, 

He cut, and dug, and winced, and stamped, and 
swore, 
Brought blood, and danced, blasphemed, and made 
wry faces, 

And cursed each razor's body o'er and o'er ; 
His muzzle, formed of opposition stuff, 
Firm as a Foxite, would not lose its ruff; 

So kept it, — laughing at the steel and suds ; 
Hodge, in a passion, stretched his angry jaws, 
Vowing the direst vengeance, with clenched claws, 

On the vile cheat that sold the goods ; 
"Razors! a mean, confounded dog, 
Not fit to scrape a hog ! " 

Hodge sought the fellow, — found him, — and begun : 
" P'rhaps, Master Razor Rogue, to you 'tis fun, 

That people flay themselves out of their lives; 
You rascal ! for an hour have I been grubbing, 
Giving my crying whiskers here a scrubbing, 

With razors just like oyster knives. 
Sirrah ! I tell you, you're a knave, 
To cry up razors that can't shave." 



296 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

" Friend," quoth the razor man, " I'm not a knave ; 

As for the razors you have bought, 

Upon my soul I never thought 
That they would shave." 

" Not think they'd shave ! " quoth Hodge, with won- 
dering eyes, 

And voice not much unlike an Indian yell ; 
"What were they made for, then, you dog?" 

"Made ! " quoth the fellow, with a smile — " to sell." 



Farm-yard Song. 

J. T. Trowbridge. 

The selection following should be given true to nature. Vary 
the calls to suit the sentiment in each stanza. 

Over the hill the farm boy goes; 
His shadow lengthens along the land, 
A giant staff in giant hand; 
In the poplar-tree above the spring 
The katydid begins to sing; 

The early dews are falling; 
Into the stone-heap darts the mink, 
The swallows skim the river's brink, 
And home to the woodland fly the crows, 
When over the hill the farm-boy goes, 

Cheerily calling — 

"Co', boss! co V , boss! co' ! co'! coM" 
Farther, farther over the hill, 
Faintly calling, calling still — 

"Co', boss! co', boss! co' ! co'!" 

Into the yard the farmer goes, 

With grateful heart, at the close of day; 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 297 

Harness and chain are hung away ; 

In the wagon-shed stand yoke and plow; 

The straw ? s in the stack, the hay in the mow; 

The cooling dews are falling; 
The friendly sheep his welcome bleat. 
The pigs come grunting to his feet, 
The whinnying mare her master knows, 
When into the yard the farmer goes, 

His cattle calling — 

"(V, boss! co', boss! co'! co'! co'!" 
While still the cow-boy, far away, 
Goes seeking those that have gone astray — 
" Co', boss ! co', boss ! co' ! co' ! " 

Now to her task the milkmaid goes ; 

The cattle come crowding through the gate, 

Lowing, pushing, little and great; 

About the trough, by the farm-yard pump, 

The frolicsome yearlings frisk and jump, 

While the pleasant dews are falling; 
The new milch heifer is quick and shy, 
But the old cow waits with tranquil eye ; 
And the white stream into the bright pail flows, 
When to her task the milkmaid goes. 

Soothingly calling — 

"So, boss! so, boss! so! so! so!" 
The cheerful milkmaid takes her stool, 
And sits and milks in the twilight cool, 

Saying, " So, so, boss ! so ! so ! " 

To supper at last the farmer goes; 
The apples are pared, the paper read, 
The stories are told, then all to bed ; 



298 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Without, the cricket's ceaseless song 
Makes shrill the silence all night long; 

The heavy dews are falling; 
The housewife's hand has turned the lock ; 
Drowsily ticks the kitchen clock; 
The household sinks to deep repose; 
But still in sleep the farm-boy goes 

Singing, calling — 
" Co', boss ! co', boss ! co' ! co' ! co' ! " 
And oft the milkmaid, in her dreams, 
Drums in the pail with the flashing streams, 

Murmuring, " So, boss ! so ! " 



Our Folks. 

Ethel Lynn. 

Start out in a hale, hearty manner, working out the gradations 
of feeling from the careless to the sympathetic and perplexed as- 
tonishment in the first speaker; calmly, the language of the sec- 
ond. In closing represent the grief of a strong man, under control. 

"Hi! Harry Holly! Halt,— and tell 

A fellow just a thing or two ; 
You've had a furlough, been to see 

How all the folks in Jersey do. 
It's months ago since I was there, — 

I, and a bullet from Fair Oaks. 
When you were home, — old comrade, say, 

Did you see any of our folks? 
You did? Shake hands, — Oh, aint I glad; 

For if I do look grim and rough, 
I've got some feelin' — People think 

A soldier's heart is mighty tough ; 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 299 

But, Harry, when the bullets fly, 

And hot saltpeter flames and smokes, 
While whole battalions lie afield, 

One's apt to think about his folks. 
And so you saw them — when? and where? 

The old man — is he hearty yet? 
And mother — does she fade at all ? 

Or does she seem to pine and fret 
For me ? , And Sis ? — has she grown tall ? 
And did you see her friend — you know 

That Annie Moss — How this pipe chokes ! — 
Where did you see her? — tell me, Hal, 

A lot of news about our folks. 
You saw them in the church, you say ; 

It's likely, for they're always there. 
Not Sunday ? no ? A funeral ? Who ? 

Who, Harry ? how you shake and stare ! 
All well, you say, and all were out. 

What ails you, Hal ? Is this a hoax ? 
Why don't you tell me, like a man, 

What is the matter with our folks ? " 
"I said all well, old comrade, true; 

I say all well, for He knows best 
Who takes the young ones in His arms, 

Before the sun goes to the Avest. 
The axe-man Death deals right and left, 

And flowers fall as well as oaks; 
And so — fair Annie blooms no more ! 

And that's the matter with your folks. 
See, this long curl was kept for you ; 

And this white blossom from her breast 
And here — your sister Bessie wrote 



300 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

A letter, telling all the rest. 
Bear up, old friend." Nobody speaks; 

Only the old camp-raven croaks, 
And soldiers whisper: " Boys, be still; 

There's some bad news from Grainger's folks." 
He turns his back — the only foe 

That ever saw it — on this grief, 
And, as men will, keeps down the tears 

Kind nature sends to Woe's relief, 
Then answers he, " Ah, Hal, I'll try; 

But in my throat there's something chokes, 
Because, you see, I've thought so long 

To count her in among our folks. 
I s'pose she must be happy now, 

But still I will keep thinking too, 
I could have kept all trouble off, 

By being tender, kind, and true. 
But maybe not. She's safe up there, 

And when His hand deals other strokes, 
She'll stand by Heaven's gate, I know, 

And wait to welcome in our folks." 



Pat's Excelsior. 

Anonymous. 
This selection is very pleasing as an Irish dialect. Use it in 
studying the brogue. 

'Twas growing dark so terrible fasht, 
Whin through a town up the mountain there pashed 
A broth of a boy, to his neck in the shnow ; 
As he walked, his shillalah he sw T ung to and fro, 
Saying : " It's up till the top I'm bound for to go, 
Bejabers! " 



STUDIES IN IMPEESONATION. 301 

He looked mortil sad, and his eye was as bright 
As a fire of turf on a cowld winther night ; 
And niver a word that he said could ye tell 
As he opened his mouth and let out a yell, 
" It's up till the top of the mountain I'll go, 
Oiiless kivered up wid this bodthersome shnow, 
Be jabers ! " 

Through the windies he saw, as he thraveled along, 
The light of the candles, and fires so warm, 
But a big chunk of ice hung over his head ; 
Wid a shnivel and groan, " By St. Patrick ! " he said, 
" It's up to the very tip-top I will rush, 
And then if it falls, it's not meself it'll crush, 
Be jabers ! " 

" Whisht a bit," said an owld man, whose head was 

as white 
As the shnow that fell down on that miserable night ; 
ft Shure, ye'll fall in the wather, me bit of a lad, 
Fur the night is so dark and the walkin' is bad." 
Bedad ! he'd not lisht to a word that was said, 
But he'd go till the top, if he went on his head, 

Be jabers ! 
A bright, buxom young girl, such as likes to be kissed, 
Axed him wouldn't he stop, and how could he resist? 
So, shnapping his fingers and winking his eye, 
While shmiling upon her, he made this reply — 
*' Faith, I meant to kape on till I got till the top, 
But, as yer shwate self has axed me, I may as well 

Be jabers ! " [shtop 

He shtopped all night and he shtopped all day, — 
And ye musn't be axing whin he did go away ; 



302 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Fur wouldn't he be a bastely gossoon 
To be laving his darlint in the swate honey-moon ? 
Whin the owld man has praties enough, and to spare, 
Shure he might as well shtay if he's comfortable there, 
Be jabers ! 



Kentucky Belle. 

Constance Fennimore Woolson. 

An impersonation. Descriptive and narrative. Rate, approach- 
ing rapid ; style, earnest conversation. 

Summer of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone 

away — 
Gone to the county-town, sir, to sell our first load 

of hay — 
We lived in the log-house yonder, poor as ever you've 

seen ; 
Roschen there was a baby, and I was only nineteen. 

Conrad he took the oxen, but he left Kentucky Belle; 
How much we thought of Kentuck, I couldn't begin 

to tell — 
Came from the Blue-Grass country; my father gave 

her to me 
When I rode North with Conrad, away from the 

Tennessee. 

Conrad lived in Ohio — a German he is, you know — 
The house stood in broad corn-fields, stretching on, 

row after row ; 
The old folks made me welcome; they were kind as 

kind could be ; 



STUDIES IN IMPEKSONATION. 303 

But I kept longing, longing, for the hills of the 
Tennessee. 

O, for a sight of water, the shadowed slope of a hill! 
Clouds that hang on the summit, a wind that never 

is still ! 
But the level land went stretching away to meet the 

sky- 
Never a rise, from north to south, to rest the weary 

eye! 

From east to west, no river to shine out under the 

moon, 
Nothing to make a shadow in the yellow afternoon ; 
Only the breathless sunshine, as I looked out, all 

forlorn ; 
Only the " rustle, rustle," as I walked among the corn. 

When I fell sick with pining, we didn't wait any more, 
But moved away from the corn -lands out to this 

river shore — 
The Tuscarawas it's called, sir — off there's a hill, 

you see — 
And now I have grown to like it next best to the 

Tennessee. 

I was at work that morning. Some one came riding 

like mad 
Over the bridge and up the road — Farmer RoufFs 

little lad; 
Bareback he rode; he had no hat ; he hardly stopped 

to say, 
" Morgan's men are coming, Frau; they're galloping 

on this way. 



304 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

" I 'm sent to warn the neighbors. He is n't a mile 

behind ; 
He sweeps up all the horses — every horse that, he 

can find ; 
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible 

men, 
With bowie-knives and pistols, are galloping up the 

glen." 

• 
The lad rode down the valley, and I stood still at 

the door; 

The baby laughed and prattled, playing with spools 
on the floor; 

Kentuck was out in the pasture ; Conrad, my man, 
was gone ; 

Nearer, nearer Morgan's men were galloping, gallop- 
ing on ! 

Sudden I picked up baby, and ran to the pasture-bar; 
" Kentuck ! '* I called ; " Kentucky ! " She knew me 

ever so far! 
I led her down the gully that turns off there to the 

right, 
And tied her to the bushes ; her head was just out 

of sight. 

As I ran back to the log-house, at once there came 

a sound — 
The ring of hoofs, galloping hoofs, trembling over 

the ground — 
Coming into the turnpike out from the White -Woman 

Glen- 
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men. 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 305 

As near they drew and nearer, my heart beat fast in 
alarm ; 

But still I stood in the door-way, with baby on my 
arm. 

They came; they passed; with spur and whip in 
haste they sped along — 

Morgan, Morgan the raider, and his band six hun- 
dred strong. 

Weary they looked and jaded, riding through night 

and through day; 
Pushing on East to the river, many long miles away,, 
To the border strip where Virginia runs up into the 

West, 
And ford the Upper Ohio before they could stop to rest. 

On like the wind they hurried, and Morgan rode in 

advance ; 
Bright were his eyes, like live coals, as he gave me 

a sideways glance ; 
And I wast just breathing freely, after my choking 

pain, 
When the last one of the troopers suddenly drew his 

rein. 

Frightened I was to death, sir; I scarce dared look 

in his face, 
As he asked for a drink of water, and glanced around 

the place ; 
I gave him a cup, and he smiled — 'twas only a boy,, 

you see ; 
Faint and worn, with dim blue eyes; and he'd sailed 

on the Tennessee. 



306 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. ' 

Only sixteen he was, sir — a fond mother's only son — 
Off and away with Morgan before his life had begun ! 
The damp drops stood on his temples; drawn was the 

boyish mouth ; 
And I thought me of the mother waiting down in 

the South ! 

; pluck was he to the backbone, and clear grit 
through and through ; 

Boasted and bragged like a trooper; but the big 
words wouldn't do ; 

The boy was dying, sir, dying, as plain as plain could 
be, 

Worn out by his ride with Morgan up from the Ten- 
nessee. 

But when I told the laddie that I too was from the 

South, 
Water came in his dim eyes, and quivers around his 

mouth : 
"Do you know the Blue-Grass country?" he wistful 

began to say; 
Then swayed like a willow sapling, and fainted dead 

away. 

I had him into the log-house, and worked and brought 

him to ; 
I fed him, and coaxed him, as I thought his mother 'd 

do; 
And when the lad got better, and the noise in his 

head was gone, 
Morgan's men were miles away, galloping, galloping 

on. 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 307 

" O I must go," he muttered ; " I must be up and away ! 
Morgan, Morgan is waiting for me ! O, what will 

Morgan say ? " 
But I heard a sound of tramping, and kept him back 

from the door — 
The ringing sound of horses' hoofs that I had heard 

before. 

And on, on came the soldiers — the Michigan cavalry — 
And fast they rode, and black they looked, galloping 

rapidly; 
They had followed hard on Morgan's track ; they had 

followed day and night; 
Eut of Morgan and Morgan's raiders they had never 

caught a sight. 

And rich Ohio sat startled through all those summer 

days; 
For strange, wild men were galloping over her broad 

highways ; 
Now here, now there, now seen, now gone, now north, 

now east, now west, 
Through river- valleys and corn-land farms, sweeping 

away her best. 

A bold ride and a long ride ! But they were taken 

at last; 
They almost reached the river by galloping hard and 

fast ; 
But the boys in blue were upon them ere ever they 

gained the ford, 

And Morgan, Morgan the raider, laid down his ter- 

ible sword. 
20 



308 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Well, I kept the boy till evening — kept him against 
his will — 

But he was too weak to follow, and sat there pale 
and still ; 

When it was cool and dusky — you '11 wonder to hear 
me tell — 

But I stole down to that gully and brought up Ken- 
tucky Belle. 

I kissed the star on her forehead — my pretty, gentle 
lass — 

But I knew that she 'd be happy back in the old 
Blue-Grass ; 

A suit of clothes of Conrad's, with all the money I had, 

And Kentuck, pretty Kentuck, I gave to the worn- 
out lad. 

I guided him to the southward as well as I knew how ; 

The boy rode off with many thanks, and many a back- 
ward bow; 

And then the glow it faded, and my heart began to 
swell, 

As down the glen away she went, my lost Kentucky 
Belle ! 

When Conrad came in the evening, the moon was 

shining high; 
Baby and I were both crying — I couldn't tell him 

why— 
But a battered suit of rebel gray was hanging on the 

wall, 
And a thin old horse with drooping head stood in 

Kentucky's stall. 



STUDIES IN IMPEESO NATION. 309 

Well, he was kind, and never once said a hard word 
to me ; 

He knew I couldn't help it — ? t was all for the Ten- 
nessee ; 

But after the war was over, just think what came to 
pass — 

A letter, sir; and the two were safe back in the old 
Blue-Grass. 

The lad had got across the border, riding Kentucky 

Belle ; 
And Kentuck she was thriving, and fat, and hearty, 

and well; 
He cared for her, and kept her, nor touched her with 

whip or spur; 
Ah ! we Ve had many horses, but never a horse like 

her! 



The Pkide of Battery B. 

F. H. Gassaway. 
Child impersonation — age ten to twelve. 

South Mountain towered upon our right, far off the 

river lay, 
And over on the wooded height we held their lines 

at bay. 
At last the muttering guns were still ; the day died 

slow and wan ; 
At last the gunners' pipes did fill, the sergeant's yarns 

began. 
When, as the wind a moment blew aside the fragrant 

flood 



310 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Our brierwoods raised, within our view a little 

maiden stood. 
A tiny tot of six or seven, from fireside fresh she 

seemed, — 
Of such a little one in heaven one soldier often 

dreamed, — 
And as we stared, her little hand went to her curly 

head 
In grave salute. "And who are you? " at length the 

sergeant said. 
"And where's your home?" he growled again. She 

lisped out, " Who is me ? 
Why, don't you know? I'm little Jane, the Pride of 

Battery B. 
My home ? Why, that was burned away, and pa and 

ma are dead ; 
And so I ride the guns all day along with Sergeant 

Ned. 
And I've a drum that's not a toy, a cap with feathers, 

too; 
And I march beside the drummer boy on Sundays at 

review. 
But now our 'bacca's all give out, the men can't have 

their smoke, 
And so they're cross — why, even Ned won't play with 

me and joke. 
And the big colonel said to-day — I hate to hear him 

swear — 
He'd give a leg for a good pipe like the Yank had 

over there. 
And so I thought when beat the drum, and the big 

guns were still, 



STUDIES IN IMPEESONATION. 311 

I'd creep beneath the tent and come ont here across 

the hill 
And beg, good Mister Yankee men, you'd give me 

some ' Lone Jack.' 
Please do ; when we get some again, I'll surely bring 

it back, 
Indeed I will, for Ned — says he, — if I do what I say, 
I'll be a general yet, maybe, and ride a prancing 

bay." 

We brimmed her tiny apron o'er; you should have 

heard her laugh 
As each man from his scanty store shook out a gen- 
erous half. 
To kiss the little mouth stooped down a score of 

grimy men, « 

Until the sergeant's husky voice said, "'Tention, 

squad ! " and then 
We gave her escort, till good-night the pretty waif 

we bid, 
And watched her toddle out of sight — or else 'twas 

tears that hid 
Her tiny form — nor turned about a man, nor spoke a 

word, 
Till after awhile a far, hoarse shout upon the wind 

we heard ! 
We sent it back, then cast sad eyes upon the scene 

around ; 
A baby's hand had touched the ties that brothers once 

had bound. 

That's all — save when the dawn awoke again the 
work of hell, 



312 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

And through the sullen clouds of smoke the scream- 
ing missiles fell, 

Our general often rubbed his glass, and marveled 
much to see 

Not a single shell that whole day fell in the camp of 
Battery B. 



A Baby's Soliloquy.. 

Anonymous. 

I am here. And if this is what they call the world, 
I don't think much of it. It's a very flannelly world, 
and smells of paregoric awfully. It's a dreadful light 
world, too, and makes me blink, I tell you. And I 
don't knpw what to do with my hands ; I think I'll 
dig my fists in my eyes. No, I won't. I'll scratch 
at the corner of my blanket and chew it up, and then 
I'll holler; whatever happens, I'll holler. And the 
more paregoric they give me, the louder I'll yell. 
That old nurse puts the spoon in the corner of 
my mouth, side wise like, and keeps tasting my milk 
herself all the while. She spilt snuff in it last night, 
and, when I hollered she trotted me. That comes of 
being a two days' old baby. Never mind; when I'm 
a man I'll pay her back good. There's a pin stick- 
ing in me now, and if I say a word about it, I'll be 
trotted or fed ; and I would rather have catnip tea. 
I'll tell you who I am. I found out to-day. I heard 
folks say, " Hush, don't wake up Emeline's baby ; " 
and I suppose that pretty, white-faced woman over on 
the pillow is Emeline. 

No, I was mistaken ; for a chap was in here just 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 313 

now, and wanted to see Bob's baby ; and looked at 
me and said I was a funny little toad, and looked 
just like Bob. He smelt of cigars. I wonder who 
else I belong to? Yes, there's another one — that's 
u Gamma." " It was Gamma's baby, so it was." I 
declare, I do not know who I belong to; but I'll 
holler, and maybe I'll find out. There comes snuffy 
with catnip tea. I'm going to sleep. I wonder why 
my hands won't go where I want them to ? 



The Dead Doll. . 

Margaret Vandegrift. 

Impersonate a little girl, heart-broken but a spoiled child. A 
very effective recitation for a lady. 

You needn't be trying to comfort me. I tell you my 

dolly is dead ! 
There's no use in saying she isn't, with a crack like 

that in her head ! 
It's just like you said it wouldn't hurt much to have 

my tooth out that day ; 
And then, when the man most pulled my head off, you 

hadn't a word to say. 

And I guess you must think I'm a baby, when you 
say you can mend it with glue ! 

As if I didn't know better than that! Why, just sup- 
pose it was you ! 

You might make her look all mended ; but what do I 
care for looks? 

Why, glue's for chairs and tables and toys, and the 
backs of books ! 



314 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

My dolly ! my own little (laughter ! Oh, but it's the 

awfulest crack ! 
It just makes me sick to think of the sound when her 

poor head went whack 
Against that horrible brass thing that holds up the 

little shelf! 
Now, nursey, what makes you remind me? I know 

that I did it myself! 

I think you must be crazy ! You'll get her another 

head! 
What good would forty heads do her ? I tell you my 

dolly is dead ! 
And to think I hadn't quite finished her elegant new 

spring hat! 
And I took a sweet ribbon of hers last night to tie 

on that horrid cat! 

When my mamma gave me that ribbon, — I was play- 
ing out in the yard, — 

She said to me most expressly, " Here's a ribbon for 
Hildegarde." 

And I went and put it on Tabby, and Hildegarde 
saw me do it ; 

But I said to myself, " Oh ! never mind ; I don't be- 
lieve she knew it." 

But I know that she knew it now; and I just believe, 

I do, 
That her poor little heart was broken, and so her 

her head broke too. 
Oh, my baby ! my little baby ! I wish my head had 

been hit ! 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 315 

For I've hit it over and over, and it hasn't cracked 
a bit! 

But, since the darling is dead, she'll want to be 

buried, of course. 
We will take my little wagon, nurse; and you shall 

be the horse ; 
And I'll walk behind, and cry ; and we'll put her in 

this, you see, — 
This dear little box, — and we'll bury her then under 

the maple-tree. 

And papa will make me a tombstone like the one he 

made for my bird ; 
And he'll put what I tell him on it; yes, every single 

word. 
I shall say, " Here lies Hildegarde, a beautiful doll, 

who is dead ; 
She died of a broken heart, and a dreadful crack in 

her head." 



Sister and I. 

Anonymous. 

This is a strong dramatic recitation for a miss or young lady. 
Impersonate a mild mania, with a tendency to violence at times. 

We were hunting for wintergreen berries, 

One May day, long gone by, 
Out on the rocky cliff's edge, 

Little sister and I. 
Sister had hair like the sunbeams; 

Black as a crow's wing, mine; 



316 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Sister had blue, dove's eyes; 

Wicked, black eyes are mine. 
Why, see how my eyes are faded — 

And my hair, it is white as snow! 
And thin, too! don't you see it is? 

I tear it sometimes ; so ! 
There, don't hold my hands, Maggie, 

I don't feel like tearing it now; 
But — where was I in my story? 

Oh, I was telling you how 
We were looking for wintergreen berries; 

^T was one bright morning in May, 
And the moss-grown rocks were slippery 

With the rains of yesterday. 
But I was cross that morning, 

Though the sun shone ever so bright — 
And when sister found the most berries, 

I was angry enough to fight ! 
And when she laughed at my pouting — 

We were little things, you know — 
I clinched my little fist up tight, 

And struck her the biggest blow! 
I struck her — I tell you — I struck her, 

And she fell right over below — 
There, there, Maggie, I won't rave now; 

You needn't hold me so — 
She went right over, I tell you, 

Down, down to the depths beloAv! 
'Tis deep and dark and horrid 

There, where the waters flow! 
She fell right over, moaning, 

"Bessie, oh, Bessie!" so sad, 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 317 

That, when I looked down affrighted, 

It drove me mad — mad ! 
Only her golden hair streaming 

Out on the rippling wave, 
Only her little hand reaching 

Up, for some one to save ; 
And she sank down in the darkness, 

I never saw her again, 
And this world is a chaos of blackness 

And darkness and grief since then. 
No more playing together 

Down on the pebbly strand ; 
Nor building our doll's stone castles 

With halls and parlors grand; 
No more fishing with bent pins 

In the little brook's clear waves; 
No more holding funerals 

O'er dead canaries' graves; 
No more walking together 

To the log school-house each morn ; 
No more vexing the master 

With putting his rules to scorn; 
No more feeding of white lambs 

With milk from the foaming pail; 
No more playing " see-saw " 

Over the fence of rail ; 
No more telling of stories 

After we 've gone to bed ; 
Nor talking of ghosts and goblins 

Till we fairly shiver with dread ; 
No more whispering fearfully 

And hugging each other tight, 



318 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

When the shutters shake and the dogs howl 

In the middle of the night ; 
No more saying "Our Father," 

Kneeling by mother's knee — 
For, Maggie, I struck sister! 

And mother is dead, you see; 
Maggie, sister's an angel, 

Isn't she ? Isn't it true ? 
For angels have golden tresses 

And eyes like sister's, blue. 
Now my hair isn't golden, 

My eyes aren't blue, you see — 
Now tell me, Maggie, if I were to die, 

Could they make an angel of me? 
You say, "Oh, yes;" you think so? 

Well, then, when I come to die, 
We'll play up there, in God's garden — 

We '11 play there, sister and I. 
Now, Maggie, you needn't eye me, 

Because I 'm talking so queer ; 
Because I 'm talking so strangely, 

You needn't have the least fear. 
I ? m feeling to-night, Maggie, 

As I never felt before — 
I 'm sure, I 'm sure of it, Maggie, 

I never shall rave any more. 
Maggie, you know how these long years 

I 've heard her calling, so sad, 
" Bessie, oh, Bessie ! " so mournful ? 

It always drives me mad ! 
How the winter wind shrieks down the chimney, 

" Bessie, oh, Bessie, oh, oh ! " 



STUDIES IN IMPERSONATION. 319 

How the south wind wails at the casement, 

" Bessie, oh, Bessie ! " so low. 
But most of all, when the May days 

Come back, with the flowers and the sun, 
How the night bird, singing, all lonely, 

"Bessie, oh, Bessie!" doth moan; 
You know how it sets me raving — 

For she moaned, " Oh, Bessie ! " just so, 
That time I struck little sister, 

On the May day long ago ! 
Now, Maggie, I've something to tell you — 

You know May day is here — 
Well, this very morning, at sunrise, 

The robins chirped " Bessie ! " so clear — 
All day long the wee birds, singing, 

Perched on the garden wall, 
Called "Bessie, oh, Bessie!" so sweetly, 

I couldn't feel sorry at all. 
Now, Maggie, I 've something to tell you — 

Let me lean up to you close — 
Do you see how the sunset has flooded 

The heavens with yellow and rose ? 
Do you see o'er the gilded cloud mountains 

Sister's golden hair streaming out? 
Do you see her little hand beckoning? 

Do you hear her little voice calling out — 
" Bessie, oh, Bessie ! " so gladly, 
"Bessie, oh, Bessie! c6me haste?" 

Yes, sister, I'm coming; I'm coming, 
To play in God's garden at last. 



320 outline of elocution. 

Little Goldenhair. 

F. B. Smith. 

A very pretty example of child impersonation. Impersonate 
old man in "Grandpapa." 

Goldenhair climbs upon grandpapa's knee ! 
Dear little Goldenhair, tired was she ; 
All the day busy as busy could be. 

Up in the morning as soon as 't was light, 
Out with the birds and butterflies bright, 
Skipping about till the coming of night. 

Grandpapa toyed with the curls on her head, 
"What has my darling been doing," he said, 
"Since she arose with the sun from her bed?" 

" Pitty much," answered the sweet little one, 
" I can not tell, so much things I have done ; 
Played with my dolly and feeded my bun ; 

"And then I jumped with my little jump-rope, 
And I made out of some water and soap 
Bootiful worlds, mamma's castles of hope. 

"I afterward readed in my picture-book, 

And Bella and I we went down to look 

For the smooth little stones by the side of the brook, 

" And then I corned home and eated my tea, 

And I climbed up on to grandpapa's knee, 

And I jes' as tired as tired can be." 

Lower and lower the little head pressed, 
Until it has dropped on grandpapa's breast. 
Dear little Goldenhair, sweet be thy rest ! 



STUDIES IN IMPEKSONATION. 321 

We are but children; the things that we do 
Are as sports of a babe to the Infinite view 
That marks all our weakness, and pities it, too. 

God grant that when night overshadows our way, 
And we shall be called to account for our day, 
He shall find us as guileless as Goldenhair's lay. 

And oh, when aweary, may we be so blest 
As to sink like the innocent child to our rest, 
And feel ourselves clasped to the Infinite breast ! 



Nobody's Child. 

Philo H. Case. 

A plaintive wail. Impersonate child's voice. Hope and ex- 
pectancy in closing stanza. 

Alone in the dreary, pitiless street, 
With my torn old dress and bare cold feet, 
All day I have wandered to and fro, 
Hungry and shivering, and nowhere to go ; 
The night's coming on in darkness and dread, 
And the chill sleet beating upon my bare head. 
Oh ! why does the wind blow upon me so wild ? 
Is it because I am nobody's child ? 

Just over the way there 's a flood of light, 
And warmth and beauty, and all things bright ; 
Beautiful children, in robes so fair, 
Are caroling songs in their rapture there. 



322 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

I wonder if they, in their blissful glee, 
Would pity a poor little beggar like me, 
Wandering alone in the merciless street, 
Naked and shivering and nothing to eat. 

Oh ! what shall I do when the night comes down 

In its terrible blackness all over the town? 

Shall I lay me down 'neath the angry sky, 

On the cold hard pavement alone to die ? 

When the beautiful children their prayers have said, 

And their mammas have tucked them up snugly in bed. 

For no dear mother ever on me smiled — 

Why is it, I wonder, I 'm nobody's child ? 

No father, no mother, no sister, not one 
In all the world loves me; e'en the little dogs run 
When I wander too near them ; 't is wondrous to see 
How every thing shrinks from a beggar like me! 
Perhaps 'tis a dream; but sometimes, when I lie 
Gazing far up in the dark blue sky, 
Watching for hours some large bright star, 
I fancy the beautiful gates are ajar. 

And a host of white-robed, nameless things 

Come fluttering o'er me on gilded wings; 

A hand that is strangely soft and fair 

Caresses gently my tangled hair; 

And a voice like the carol of some wild bird — 

The sweetest voice that ever was heard — 

Calls me many a dear pet name, 

Till my heart and spirits are all aflame. 

They tell me of such unbounded love, 
And bid me come up to their home above, 



STUDIES IN IMPEESONATION. 323 

And then, with such pitiful, sad surprise, 
They look at me with their sweet, tender eyes, 
And it seems to me out of the dreary night, 
I am going up to that world of light, 
And away from the hunger and storm so wild— 
I am sure I shall then be somebody's child. 
21 



PUBLIC READINGS. 



Scott and the Veteran. 

Bayard Taylor. 

Impersonate Scott in a strong, manly, orotund quality. The 
veteran in the voice and character of greater age. A very effect- 
ive recitation. 

An old and crippled veteran to the War Department 

came, 
He sought the Chief who led him on many a field of 

fame — 
The Chief who shouted " Forward ! " where'er his 

banner rose, 
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes. 

"Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier 

cried, 
" The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was 

at your side ? 
Have you forgotten Johnson, w T ho fought at Lundy's 

Lane? 
'Tis true, I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight 

again." 

"Have I forgotten ?" said the Chief; "my brave old 

soldier, no ! 
And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell 

you so; 

324 



PUBLIC READINGS. 325 

But you have done your share, my friend ; you're 

crippled, old, and gray, 
And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood 

to-day. 

"But, 'General/' cried the veteran, a flush upon his 

brow, 
" The very men who fought with us, they say, are 

traitors now; 
They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old red, 

white, and blue, 
And while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop 

is true. 

" I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good 

old gun, 
To get the range of traitors' hearts, and prick them, 

one by one, 
Your Minie-rifles and such arms, it ain't worth while 

to try; % 

I couldn't get , the hang o' them, but I'll keep my 

powder dry ! " 

" God bless you, comrade ! " said the Chief, — " God 
bless your loyal heart! 

But younger men are in the field, and claim to have 
a part ; 

They'll plant our sacred banner firm, in each re- 
bellious town, 

And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to pull 
it down ! " 

" But, General ! " — still persisting, the anxious vet- 
eran cried, 



326 OUTL/NE OF ELOCUTION. 

" I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my 

guide ; 
And some, you know, must bite the dust and that, at 

least, can I; 
So give the young ones place to fight, but me a place 

to die! 

" If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in 

command 
Put me upon the rampart with the flag-staff in my 

hand : 
No odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the shell 

may fly, 
I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them 

till I die ! 

" I'm ready, General ; so you let a post to me be 

given, 
Where Washington can look at me, as he looks down 

from Heaven, 
And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, General 

Wayne, — 
' There stands old Billy Johnson, who fought at Lun- 

dy's Lane ! ' 

" And when the fight is raging hot, before the trait- 
ors fly, 

When shell and ball are screeching, and bursting in 
the sky, 

If any shot should pierce through me, and lay me on 
my face, 

My soul would go to Washington's, and not to Ar- 
nold's place ! " 






public readings. 327 

The Raven. 

Edgar Allan Poe. 

Perhaps no selection outside of Shakespeare's works has more 
numerous admirers and critics than "The Raven." In reciting, 
begin as in an abstracted reverie, bringing out the growing feeling 
as it develops. The last stanza is the finest, portraying an almost 
frenzied passion, subsiding in the last line into the painful anguish 
of "hopeless despair. 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, 
weak and weary, 

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten 
lore, — 

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came 
a tapping, 

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my cham- 
ber-door. 

" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my cham- 
ber-door — 

Only this, and nothing more." 

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak De- 
cember, 

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost 
upon the floor. 

Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had sought 
to borrow 

From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the 
lost Lenore, — 

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels 
name Lenore, — 

Nameless here for evermore. 



328 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple 
curtain 

Thrilled me, — filled me with fantastic terrors never 
felt before; 

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood 
repeating, 

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my cham- 
ber-door, — 

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber- 
door ; 

That it is, and nothing more." 

Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no 
longer, 

" Sir," said I, " or Madam, truly your forgiveness I 
implore ; 

But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you 
came rapping, 

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my cham- 
ber door, 

That I scarce was sure I heard you " — here I opened 
wide the door; 

Darkness there, and nothing more. 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, 

wondering, fearing, 
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to 

dream before; 
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave 

no token, 
And the only word there spoken was the whispered 

word, " Lenore ! " 



PUBLIC READINGS. 329 

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the 
word, " Lenore ! " 

Merely this, and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within 
me burning, 

Soon again I heard a tapping, somewhat louder than 
before. 

" Surely," said I, " surely that is something at my 
window-lattice ; 

Let me see then what thereat is and this mystery ex- 
plore, — 

Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery ex- 
plore ; — 

'Tis the wind, and nothing more." 

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a 
flirt and flutter, 

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days 
of yore. 

Not the least obeisance made he ; not a minute stopped 
or stayed he; 

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my 
chamber-door, — 

Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my cham- 
ber-door — 

Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into 

smiling, 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance 

it wore, 
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I 

said, " art sure no craven ; 



330 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from 
the nightly shore, 

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plu- 
tonian shore ?" 

Quoth the raven, " Nevermore ! " 

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse 

so plainly, 
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore ; 
For we can not help agreeing that no living human 

being 
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his 

chamber-door, 
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his 

chamber-door 

With such name as " Nevermore ! " 

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust r 

spoke only 
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he 

did outpour. 
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then 

he fluttered — 
Till I scarcely more than muttered, " Other friends 

have flown before, 
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have 

flown before," 

Then the bird said, " Nevermore ! " 

Startled at the stillness, broken by reply so aptly 

spoken, 
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock 

and store, 



PUBLIC READINGS. 331 

Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerci- 
ful disaster 

Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one 
burden bore, 

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore, 
Of — ' Never — nevermore ! ' " 

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into 
smiling, 

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird 
and bust and door, 

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to 
linking 

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird 
of yore — 

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and omi- 
nous bird of yore 

Meant in croaking "Nevermore!" 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable ex- 
pressing 

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my 
bosom's core ; 

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease 
reclining 

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light 
gloated o'er, 

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light 
gloating o'er 

She shall press — ah ! nevermore ! 

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from 
an unseen censer 



332 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Swung by seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the 

tufted floor. 
"Wretch/' I cried, "thy God hath lent thee— by 

these angels he hath sent thee, 
Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories 

of Lenore ! 
Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this 

lost Lenore ! " 

Quoth the raven, " Nevermore ! " 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, 
if bird or devil ! 

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed 
thee here ashore, 

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land en- 
chanted — 

On this home by horror haunted — tell me truly, I 
implore, — 

Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell 
me, I implore ! " 

Quoth the raven, " Nevermore ! " 

"Prophet!" said I "thing of evil! — prophet still, 
if bird or devil ! 

By that heaven that bends above us, by that God we 
both adore, 

Tell this soul, with sorrow laden, if, within the dis- 
tant Aidenn, 

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels 
name Lenore ; 

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels 
name Lenore ! " 

Quoth the raven, " Nevermore ! " 



PUBLIC READINGS. 333 

" Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! y ' 
I shrieked, upstarting — 

Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plu- 
tonian shore ; 

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul 
hath spoken ! 

Leave my loneliness unbroken ! — quit the bust above 
my door ! 

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form 
from off my door!" 

Quoth the raven, '* Nevermore ! " 

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is 
sitting 

On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber- 
door ; 

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that 
is dreaming, 

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his 
shadow on the floor; 

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating 
on the floor 

Shall be lifted — nevermore ! 



The Hypochondriac. 

Dr. Valentine. 

Eccentric impersonation. Effect heightened by tying handker 
chief over the head. Characterize the peculiarities of all the ail- 
ments. Irresistibly funny. 

Good-morning, Doctor ; how do you do ? I haint 
quite so well as I have been ; but I think I 'm some 



334 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

better than I was. I don't think that last medicine 
you gin me did me much good. I had a terrible time 
with the ear-ache last night ; my wife got up and drapt 
a few draps of walnut sap into it, and that relieved 
it some ; but I didn't get a wink of sleep till nearly 
daylight. For nearly a week, Doctor, I Ve had the 
worst kind of a narvous headache; it has been so 
bad sometimes that I thought my head would bust 
open. Oh, dear ! I sometimes think that I 'm the 
most afflictedest human being that ever lived. 

Since this cold weather sot in, that troublesome 
cough, that I have had every winter for the last fif- 
teen year, has begun to pester me agin. (Coughs.) 
Doctor, do you think you can give me any thing 
that will relieve this desprit pain I have in my side? 

Then I have a crick, at times, in the back of my 
neck, so that I can't turn my head without turning 
the hull of my body. (Coughs.) 

Oh, dear ! What shall I do ? I have consulted al- 
most every doctor in the country, but they don't any 
of them seem to understand my case. I have tried 
every thing that I could think of; but I can't find 
any thing that does me the leastest good. (Coughs.) 

Oh this cough — it will be the death of me yet! 
You know I had my right hip put out last fall at 
the rising of Deacon Jones' saw-mill; it's getting to 
be very troublesome just before we have a change 
of weather. Then I 've got the sciatica in my right 
knee, and sometimes I 'm so crippled up that I can 
hardly crawl round in any fashion. 

What do you think that old white mare of ours 
did while I was out plowing last week? Why, the 



PUBLIC READINGS. 335 

weacked old critter, she kept a backing and back- 
ing, ontill she backed me right up agin the colter, 
and knocked a piece of skin off my shin nearly so 
big. (Coughs.) 

But I had a worse misfortune than that the other 
day, Doctor. You see it was washing-day — and my 
wife wanted me to go out and bring in a little stove- 
wood — you know we lost our help lately, and my 
wife has to wash and tend to every thing about the 
house herself. 

I knew it wouldn't be safe for me to go out — as 
it was a-raining at the time — but I thought I 'd risk 
it anyhow. So I went out, picked up a few chunks 
of stove-wood, and was a-coming up the steps into 
the house, when my feet slipped from under me, and 
I fell down as sudden as if I 'd been shot. Some of 
the wood lit upon my face, broke down the bridge of 
my nose, cut my upper lip, and knocked out three 
of my front teeth. I suffered dreadfully on account 
of it, as you may suppose, and my face aint well 
enough yet to make me fit to be seen, specially by 
the women folks. (Coughs.) Oh, dear! but that 
aint all, doctor: I've got fifteen corns on my toes — 
and I 'm afeard I 'm a-going to have the " yaller 
j anders." ( Coughs. ) 



336 outline of elocution. 

Mother and Poet. 

Mrs. E. B. Browning. 

This strong pathetic recitation is exceedingly difficult for the 
student, requiring the most intense passion, bordering on frenzy. 

Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east, 
And one of them shot in the west by the sea, 

Dead ! both my boys ! When you sit at the feast, 
And are wanting a great song for Italy free, 
Let none look at me ! 

Yet I was a poetess only last year, 

And good at my art, for a woman, men said ; 

But this woman, this, who is agonized here, 

The east sea and west sea rhyme on in her head 
Forever, instead. 

What art can a woman be good at ? Oh, vain ! 

What art is she good at, but hurting her breast 
With the milk-teeth of babes, and a smile at the pain? 
Ah, boys, how you hurt! you were strong as you 
pressed, 

And I proud, by that test. 

What art 's for a woman ? To hold on her knees 
Both darlings; to feel all their arms round her throat 

Cling, strangle a little ; to sew by degrees 

And broider the long clothes and neat little coat; 
To dream and to doat! 

To teach them . . It stings there ! I made them, indeed, 
Speak plain the word country. I taught them, no 
doubt. 



PUBLIC READINGS. 337 

That a country 's a thing men should die for at need. 
I prated of liberty, rights, and about 
The tyrant cast out. 

And when their eyes flashed . . O my beautiful eyes ! . . 

I exulted ; nay, let them go forth at the wheels 
Of the guns, and denied not. But then the surprise 
When one sits quite alone ! Then one weeps, then 
one kneels! 

God, how the house feels ! 

At first happy news came, — in gay letters, moiled 

With my kisses, — of camp-life and glory, and how 
They both loved me ; and, soon coming home to be 
spoiled, 
In return would fan off every fly from my brow 
With their green laurel bough. 

Then was triumph at Turin. Ancona was free ! 

And some one came out of the cheers in the street, 
With a face pale as stone, to say something to me ; 

My Guido was dead ! I fell down at his feet, 
While they cheered in the street. 

I bore it ; friends soothed me ; my grief looked sub- 
lime 
As the ransom of Italy. One boy remained 
To be leaned on and walked with, recalling the time 
When the first grew immortal, while both of us 
strained 

To the height he had gained. 

And letters still came, shorter, sadder, more strong, 
Writ now but in one hand ; I was not to faint, — 



338 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

One loved me for two, — would be with me erelong ; 

And, " Viva V Italia! he died for, — our saint, — 

Who forbids our complaint." 

My Nanni would add : he was safe, and aware 

Of a presence that turned off the balls, — was im- 
pressed 
It was Guido himself, who knew what I could bear, 
And how 'twas impossible, quite dispossessed, 
To live on for the rest. 

On which, without pause, up the telegraph line 

Swept smoothly the next news from Gaeta : — Shot. 
Tell his mother. Ah, ah, "his," "their" mother, not 
"mine;" 
No voice says " My mother " again to me. What ! 
You think Guido forgot? 

Are souls straight so happy that, dizzy with Heaven, 
They drop earth's affections, conceive not of woe ? 

I think not. Themselves were too lately forgiven 
Through that Love and Sorrow which reconciled so 
The above and Below. 

O Christ of the seven wounds, who look'dst through 
the dark 
To the face of thy Mother ! consider, I pray, 
How we common mothers stand desolate, mark 

Whose sons, not being Christs, die with eyes turned 
away, 

And no last word to say. 

Both boys dead ? but that ? s out of nature. We all 
Have been patriots, yet each house must always keep 
one. 



PUBLIC READINGS. 339 

'T were imbecile, hewing out roads to a wall ; 
And, when Italy's made, for what end is it done 
If we have not a son ? 

Ah, ah, ah ! when Gaeta ? s taken, what then ? 

When the fair wicked queen sits no more at her sport 
Of the fire-balls of death, crashing souls out of men ? 

When the guns of Cavalli, with final retort, 
Have cut the game short ? 

When Venice and Rome keep their new jubilee, 
When your flag takes all heaven for its white, green, 
and red, 
When you have a country from mountain to sea, 
And King Victor has Italy's crown on his head, — 
And I have my dead, — 

What then ? Do not mock me. Ah, ring your bells 
low, 
And burn your lights faintly ! My country is there, 
Above the star pricked by the last peak of snow ; 
My Italy 's there, with my brave civic pair, 
To disfranchise despair ! 

Forgive me. Some women bear children in strength, 
And bite back the cry of their pain in self-scorn ; 

But the birth-pangs of nations will wring us at length 
Into wail such as this ; and we sit on, forlorn, 
When the man-child is born. 

Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east, 
And one of them shot in the west by the sea. 
Both, both my boys ! If, in keeping the feast, 
You want a great song for your Italy free, 
Let none look at me ! 
22 



340 outline of elocution. 

The Bells of Shandon. 

Francis Mahoney. 

A selection which is thoroughly unique as a specimen of litera- 
ture. Read in rich, musical, orotund voice, avoiding monotony. 

With deep affection 
And recollection, 
I often think of 

Those Shandon bells; 
Whose sounds so wild would, 
In the days of childhood, 
Fling round my cradle 

Their magic spells. 

On this I ponder 
Where'er I wander, 
And thus grow fonder, 

Sweet Cork, of thee, — 
With thy bells of Shandon, 
That sound so grand, on 
The pleasant waters 

Of the river Lee. 

I 've heard bells chiming 
Full many a clime in, 
Tolling sublime in 

Cathedral shrine ; 
While at a glib rate 
Brass tongues would vibrate; 
But all their music 

Spoke naught like thine. 



PUBLIC READINGS. 341 

For memory, dwelling 
On each proud swelling 
Of thy belfry, knelling 

Its bold notes free, 
Made the bells of Shandon 
Sound far more grand, on 
The pleasant waters 

Of the river Lee. 

I've heard bells tolling 
Old Adrian's Mole in, 
Their thunder rolling 

From the Vatican ; 
And cymbals glorious 
Swinging uproarious 
In the gorgeous turrets 

Of Notre Dame ; 

But thy sounds were sweeter 
Than the dome of Peter 
Flings o'er the Tiber, 

Pealing solemnly. 
O, the bells of Shandon 
Sound far more grand, on 
The pleasant waters 

Of the river Lee. 

There's a bell in Moscow, 
Where on tower and kiosk O 
In Saint Sophia 

The Turkman gets, 
And loud in air 
Calls men to prayer, 



342 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

From the tapering summits 
Of tall minarets. 

Such empty phantom 
I freely grant them; 
But there 's an anthem 

More dear to me ; 
? Tis the bells of Shandon, 
That sound so grand, on 
The pleasant waters 

Of the river Lee. 



The Creeds of the Bells. 

George W. Bungay. — (Adapted.) 

The Creeds of the Bells gives excellent opportunity for voice cul- 
ture. The pitches and time of the different bells should be closely 
attended to. 

How sweet the chime of the Sabbath bells ! 
Each one its creed in music tells, 
In tones that float upon the air, 
As soft as song, as pure as prayer; 
And I will put in simple rhyme 
The language of the golden chime; 
My happy heart with rapture swells 
Responsive to the bells, sweet bells. 

" Ye purifying waters, swell ! " 

In mellow tones rang out a bell; 

" Though faith alone in Christ can save, 

Man must be plunged beneath the wave, 

To show the world unfaltering faith 

In what the Sacred Scriptures saith; 



PUBLIC READINGS. 343 

O swell! ye rising waters, swell I" 
Pealed out the clear-toned Baptist bell. 

a Oh heed the ancient landmarks well!" 
In solemn tones exclaimed a bell; 
"No progress made by mortal man 
Can change the just eternal plan; 
With God there can be nothing new ; 
Ignore the false, embrace the true, 
While all is well ! is well ! is well ! " 
Pealed out the good old Dutch church bell. 

" In deeds of love excel ! excel ! " 
Chimed out from ivied towers a bell ; 
" This is the church not built on sands, 
Emblem of one not built with hands ; 
Its forms and sacred rites revere, 
Come worship here ! come worship here ! 
In rituals and faith excel ! " 
Chimed out the Episcopalian bell. 

" Not faith alone, but works as well, 
Must test the soul ! " said a soft bell ; 
"Come here and cast aside your load, 
And work your way along the road, 
With faith in God, and faith in man, 
And hope in Christ, where hope began; 
Do well ! do well ! do well ! do well ! " 
Rang out the Unitarian bell. 

"To all, the truth, we tell! we tell!" 
Shouted in ecstasies a bell; 
"Come all ye weary wanderers, see! 
Our Lord has made salvation free ! 



344 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Repent, believe, have faith, and then 
Be saved, and praise the Lord, Amen! 
Salvation's free, we tell ! we tell ! " 
Shouted the Methodistic bell. 

" Farewell ! farewell ! base world, farewell ! " 
In touching tones exclaimed a bell; 
" Life is a boon, to mortals given, 
To fit the soul for bliss in heaven; 
Do not invoke the avenging rod, 
Come here and learn the way to God; 
Say to the world, Farewell ! farewell ! " 
Pealed forth the Presbyterian bell. 

"In after life there is no hell!" 
In raptures rang a cheerful bell; 
"Look up to heaven this holy day, 
Where angels wait to lead the way; 
There are no fires, no fiends to blight 
The future life; be just and right. 
No hell! no hell! no hell! no hell!" 
Rang out the Universalist bell. 

" Ye workers who have toiled so well, 
To save the race ! " said a sweet bell ; 
"With pledge, and badge, and banner, come, 
Each brave heart beating like a drum ; 
Be royal men of noble deeds, 
For love is holier than creeds; 
Drink from the well, the well, the well ! " 
In rapture rang the Temperance bell. 



public readings. 345 

The Courtin'. 

J. R. Lowell. 

This is best rendered by a lady.. Impersonate old lady, with the 
drawn lip and glasses.* Yankee dialect. 

God makes seoh nights, all white an' still 
Fur 'z you can look or listen, 

Moonshine an' snow on field an* hill, 
All silence an' all glisten. 

Zekel crep' up quite unbeknown 
An' peeked in thru* the winder, 

An' there sot Huldy all alone, 
'Ith no one nigh to hender. 

A fireplace filled the room's one side 
With half a cord o' wood in, — 

There war n't no stoves — tell Comfort died — 
To bake ye to a puddin'. 

The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out 
Towards the pootiest, bless her ! 

An' leetle flames danced all about 
The chiny on the dresser. 

Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, 

An' in among 'em rusted 
The old queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young 

Fetched back from Concord busted. 

The very room, coz she was in, 

Seemed warm from floor to ceilin'; 

An' she looked full ez rosy agin, 
Ez the apples she was peelin'. 



346 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look 

On such a blessed creetur, 
A dog-rose blushin' to a brook 

Ain't modester nor sweeter. 

He was six foot o' man, A 1, 
Clean grit an' human natur' ; 

None couldn't quicker pitch a ton 
Nor dror a furrer straighter. 

He'd sparked it with full twenty gals, 
He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em, 

Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells, — 
All is, he couldn't love 'em. 

But long o' her his veins 'ould run 
All crinkly like curled maple, 

The side she breshed felt full o' sun 
Ez a south slope in Ap'il. 

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing 

Ez hisn in the choir; 
My ! when he made Ole Hundred ring, 

She knowed the Lord was nigher. 

An' she'd blush scarlet, right in prayer, 
When her new meetin' bunnet 

Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair 
O' blue eyes sot upon it. 

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some ! 

She seemed to've got a new soul, 
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come, 

Down to her very shoe-sole. 

She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu, 
A raspin' on the scraper, — 



PUBLIC READINGS. 347 

All-ways to once her feelings flew 
Like sparks in burnt-up paper. 

He kin' o' l'itered on the mat, 

Some doubtfle o' the sekle, 
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, 

But hern went pity Zekle. 

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk 
Ez though she wished him furder, 

An' on her apples kep' to work, 
Parin' away like murder. 

"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?" 
"Wall no — — I come designin' — " 

" To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es 
Agin to-morrer's i , nin\ w 

To say why gals act so or so, 

Or don't, 'ould be presumin' ; 
Mebby to mean yes an* say no 

Comes nateral to women. 

He stood a spell on one foot fust, 

Then stood a spell on t'other, 
An' on which one he felt the wust 

He couldn't ha' told ye nuther. 

Says he, " I'd better call agin ; " 
Says she, "Think likely, Mister;" 

Thet last word pricked him like a pin, 
An' — — Wal, he up an' kist her. 

When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, 

Huldy sot pale ez ashes, 
All kin' o' smily roun' the lips 

An' teary roun' the lashes. 



348 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

For she was jes' the quiet kind 

Whose naturs never vary, 
Like streams that keep a summer mind 

Snow-hid in Jenooary. 

The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued 

Too tight for all expressing 
Tell mother see how metters stood, 

And gin 'em both her blessin'. 

Then her red come back like the tide. 

Down to the Bay o' Fundy, 
An' all I know is, they was cried 

In meetin' come nex' Sunday. 



The Battle of Ivry. 

T. B. Macaulay. 

Eecite in bold, declamatory style, exercising care not to run 
too high in pitch. 

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glo- 
ries are ! 

And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of 
Navarre ! 

Now let there be the merry sound of music and the 
dance, 

Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vales, O 
pleasant land of France ! 

And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of 
the waters, 

Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning 
daughters ; 



PUBLIC READINGS. 349 

As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our 

For cold and stiff and still are they who wrought 
thy walls annoy. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance 
of war. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! for Ivry and King Henry of Na- 
varre ! 

Oh, how our hearts were beating when, at the dawn 
of day, 

We saw the army of the League drawn out in long 
array ; 

With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, 

And AppenzePs stout infantry, and Egmont's Flem- 
ish spears! 

There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of 
our land! 

And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in 
his hand; 

And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's 
empurpled flood, 

And good Coligni's hoary hair all dabbled with his 
blood; 

And we cried unto the living God, who rules the 
fate of war, 

To fight for His own holy Name, and Henry of Na- 
varre ! 

The King has come to marshal us, in all his armor 
drest, 

And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gal- 
lant crest. 



350 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his 

eye; 
He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern 

and high. 
Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing 

to wing, 
Down all our line, in deafening shout, "God save 

our lord, the King ! " 
"And if my standard-bearer fall, — as fall full well 

he may, 
For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, — 
Press where ye see my white plume shine, amid the 

ranks of war, 
And be your oriflamme, to-day, the helmet of Na- 



Hurrah! the foes are moving! Hark to the mingled 

din 
Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring 

culverin ! 
The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Andre's 

plain, 
With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Al- 

mayne. 
Now, by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of 

France, 
Charge for the golden lilies now, — upon them with 

the lance ! 
A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears 

in rest, 
A thousand knights are pressing close behind the 

snow-white crest, 



PUBLIC HEADINGS. 351 

And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like 

a guiding star, 
Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of 

Navarre. 

Now, God be praised, the day is ours ! Mayenne 

hath turned his rein, 
D'Aumale hath cried for quarter — the Flemish Count 

is slain ; 
Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a 

Biscay gale ; 
The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, 

and cloven mail. 
And then we thought on vengeance, and all along 

our van, 
" Eemember St. Bartholomew ! " was passed from man 

to man ; 
But out spake gentle Henry, then, — " No Frenchman 

is my foe; 
Down, down with every foreigner! but let your breth- 
ren go." 
Oh, was there ever such a night, in friendship or in 

war, 
As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the soldier of 

Navarre ? 

Ho ! maidens of Vienna ! Ho ! matrons of Luzerne ! 
Weep, weep and rend your hair for those who never 

shall return ! 
Ho ! Philip, send for charity thy Mexican pistoles, 
That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor 

spearmen's souls. 



352 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your 

arms be bright! 
Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward 

to-night ! 
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath 

raised the slave, 
And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor 

of the brave. 
Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories 

are ! 
And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of 

Navarre ! 



The Charcoal Man. 

J. T. Trowbridge. 

Eead in a purely conversational voice. Vary the method of 
reciting the " Charco' " refrain to suit the sense in each stanza. 

Though rudely blows the wintry blast, 
And sifting snows fall white and fast, 
Mark Haley drives along the street, 
Perched high upon his wagon seat ; 
His somber face the storm defies, 
And thus from morn till eve he cries, — 

" Charco' ! charco' !" 
While echo faint and far replies, — 

"Hark, O! hark, O!" 
" Charco' !"— "Hark, O!"— Such cheery sounds 
Attend him on his daily rounds. 

The dust begrimes his ancient hat ; 
His coat is darker far than that ; 



PUBLIC HEADINGS. 353 

'T is odd to see his sooty form 

All speckled with the feathery storm ; 

Yet in his honest bosom lies 

Nor spot, nor speck, — though still he cries, — 

"CharcoM charco'!" 
And many a roguish lad replies,— 

"Ark, ho! ark, ho!" 
" Charco' ! " — " Ark, ho ! " — Such various sounds 
Announce Mark Haley's morning rounds. 

Thus all the cold and wintry day 
He labors much for little pay; 
Yet feels no less of happiness 
Than many a richer man, I guess, 
When through the shades of eve he spies 
The light of his own home, and cries, — 

" CharcoM eharcoM" 
And Martha from the door replies,— 

" Mark, ho ! Mark, ho ! " 
" Charco' ! " — " Mark, ho ! " — Such joy abounds 
When he has closed his daily rounds. 

The hearth is warm, the fire is bright, 

And while his hand, washed clean and white, 

Holds Martha's tender hand once more, 

His glowing face bends fondly o'er 

The crib wherein his darling lies, 

And in a coaxing tone he cries, 

"CharcoM charco'!" 
And baby with a laugh replies, — 

"Ah, go!" "ah, go!" 
" Charco' ! "— " Ah, go ! " — while at the sounds 
The mother's heart with gladness bounds. 



354 OUTLINE OF ELOCUTION. 

Then honored be the charcoal man ! 

Though dusky as an African, 

? T is not for yon, that chance to be 

A little better clad than he, 

His honest manhood to despise, 

Although from morn till eve he cries, — 

"CharcoM charco'!" 
While mocking echo still replies, — 

"Hark, O! hark, O!" 
" Charco' ! " — " Hark, O ! " — Long may the sounds 
Proclaim Mark Haley's daily rounds ! 



THE END. 



NORMAL PRINCIPLES 

The most improved Methods of Instruction, Vigorous and Progres- 
sive Editorials, Practical Hints and Helps for the School Room, 
Letters from Actual and Experienced Teachers, giving their Plans for- 
Conducting Recitations and Managing Schools, and Notes and 
Queriss, are to be found Monthly in 

THE NORMAL TEACHER; 

The only educational periodical in the world devoted to the dissemination of 
Normal Principles and to practical school worK. It is essentially different from all 
other school journals, in that it gives those principles of teaching 1 which can be 
made to work in every school, and by which the labor of the teacher is made a 
ple asan t, instead of an irksome task. 

Kagr-Read its leading articles and see if every one is not full of practical points 
an d sug gestions. 

K^"Read its vigorous, progressive and spicy Editorial notes, and compare them 
with the stale and dry news items of other school journals. 

|2i§ r ~'Read its Grammar Department for the disposition of difficult constructions, 
an d pra ctical hints on teaching grammar. 

gajj^Read its exposition of Normal Principles for a clear insight into those ele- 
ments which make study a pleasure and the work of the school room delightful. 

^gp*Read its Correspondence and learn the different methods of teaching and 
government practiced by teachers of all grades and classes. 

g5^~ Read itsNotes and Queries for a fund of valuable and unique information. 

^^•Read its Practical Hints and Helps for the School Room, and get the cream 
of all t he practical ideas published in two hundred educational journals. 

{^""Read its Instructive Paragraphs for gems of thought and words of cheer 
and encouragement. 

£^*Read its Educational Miscellany for questions upon which to post yourself 
for exa minations. 

J5IF""Read its Book Table, and compare its literary notices with those of the 
leading educational journals of the country. 

A NEW FEATURE. 

We have recently opened * department especially devoted to the preparation ot 
teachers for license In this department will be published the Questions prepared 
by the Indiana State Board of Education for the examination of teachers with the 
answers to the same, courses of study for those who desire to prepare themselves 
for examination, plans and methods of review, hints in regard to preparation of 
manuscripts, and suggestions to be observed during examinations. 

We sh ill mike this department alone worth many times the subscript ioni price to 
any teacher who expects to go before an examiner. 

The following complimentary notice vnll show something of its reception by the 
teaching public. 

" The Normal Teacher, edited and published at Danville, Indiana, by J. E. Sher- 
, rill, is a monthly in pamphlet form, containing about sixty pages each issue, de - 
voted to the art of teaching. It realizes what some of its contemporaries fail to do 
that the newspaper is the only proper vehicle of educational news, and devotes its 
space mainly to education-technics. In other words, aims to be what its name 
implies, a normal teacher. — The Chicago Weekly Journal. 

Thousands of other notices eaually complimentary could be given, but these are 
sufficient. We will send the NORMAL TEACHER for 1881 for $1.00. Agents 
wanted in every county in the Union, to whom- we offer special inducements. 
Please send for our Premium Circular. Specimen copies free. Address 

J. E. SHERRILL, Danville, Hendricks Co., Indiana. 



The Normal Question Book. 

Price, $1.50. 
A few points worth remembering: 

1. The Normal Question Book was prepared by an experienced 
teacher. 

2. The questions were selected from the examination papers pre- 
pared for the examination of teachers in the several states. The 
answers were hunted up from the best authorities on the several 
branches. 

3. Its appendix is alone worth more than the price of the book, 
to any teacher. 

4. It is a valuable book not only for teachers, but for everybody. 
Please read the following notice for prool of this statement: " Hav- 
ing become possessor of a copy of The Normal Question Book, I 
am pleased with the same. All who examine the work seem de- 
lighted with it, even persons who are not teaching and do not in- 
tend to teach." 

5. It is a work of great assistance to teachers in preparing ques- 
tions for reviews. Thousands of teachers are now using this book 
with wonderful success in their schools. Many have adopted it as a 
text-book. Many county superintendents use it in their institutes in 
preparing teachers for examination, and the results accomplished by 
its use are truly wonderful. 

6. It is valuable to the scholar, student or pupil, in suggesting the 
best plans of study and in bringing out the leading and fundamental 
principles of each branch of study. 

7. It is of practical value to every family, business and profes- 
sional man. No library is complete without it. It is so nicely bound 
that is is an ornament to any parlor table. You could not present 
your friend with a more acceptable gift. 

8. That this book has been long needed is evidenced by the fact 
that nearly two thousand copies were sold before it was published. 

9. It sends all other "question books" to the shade. Those who 
have bought other question books have laid them aside and are now 
using the Normal. It is as far ahead of all other books of the kind 
as the railroad is ahead of the stage-coach. 

10. It does not conflict with any text-book in use in the schools, 
but can be used advantageously in connection with the text-books 
on any subject. 

11. It is highly endorsed by the best teachers and educators of 
the country. There is but one opinion as to its merits and value. 

12. Agents are reaping a rich harvest with it. There is more 
money in it to active agents than in any other publication of like 
character. 

Copies can be sold to everybody. This book outsells all others. 
You can sell a copy to every teacher at your Institute. Order a 
supply at once and make money. Terms to agents sent upon appli- 
cation to J. E. SHERRILL, Prop'r Normal Publishing House, Dan- 
ville, Indiana. 



A PRACTICAL BOOK. 



Normal Outlines of the Common School Branches. 

Designed as an aid to teachers and pupils in the method of teaching- by topics. 
For the use of common and high schools, Normal schools and private students. 
By G. Dallas Lind, author of Methods of Teaching in Country Schools. 
This work is a series of outlines, on each of the common branch- 
es, making an average lesson for each day of a three month's term 
of school. The outlines are accompanied by references to many of 
the best text books in use, to larger works on the subjects, and to 
miscellaneous works such as are generally found in public and pri- 
vate libraries. 

By means of this work pupils may use different authors and study 
and recite in the same class. No need of a uniformity of text books. 
It will have a tendency to divorce the pupil from a blind following 
of text books and lead him out to investigate subjects wherever he 
may find them discussed and recite the knowledge thus gained in 
his own language. The subjects outlined are U. S. History, Geog- 
raphy, Grammar, Physiology and Arithmetic, with an Appendix, 
giving a complete outline of Infinitives and Participles, with exam- 
ples in every possible construction ; Programme and Models for 
Parsing, Analysis and diagramming; the use of the Dictionary; 
Test Words in Spelling, &c. ; Order of Topics in the Study of the 
Natural Sciences; an Outline of Outlining explaining the different 
systems in use; a List of Books for the Teacher; Model Solutions 
in Arithmetic; Methods of Teaching Beginners to Read, and other 
matter of interest and importance. 

Every teacher who would learn the topical method of 
teaching must sooner or later have this book. 

This book will lift pupils and teachers out of the ruts by directing 
the studies of the pupils and stimulating them to investigation, and 
pointing out to the teacher the true plan of recitation. 

We could give many testimonials of this book but have spaee on- 
ly for the following: 

" The author of this volume has gathered here the outlines of 
most of the subjects usually taught in school. For instance, the 
outline of United States History is gathered under sixty-eight heads 
or chapters — • Discovery,' ' Subsequent Discoveries,' The 'Aborigi- 
nes,' &c. The same method is employed in Grammar, Geography, 
&c. The method is an excellent one and the subject is very ably 
treated. Mr. Lind has made a volume that will be of real service to 
the teacher who seeks for steady and systematic improvement. It 
will be found valuable to review any study with. We deem 
the volume worthy of being put in every teacher's hands not only 
but all who desire thoroughness and independence in studies will 
do well to own it." New York School Journal, Oct. 16, 1880. Sent 
by mail to any address postpaid for $1.00. Liberal discount to school 
officers and agents. Address J. E. SHERRILL, 

Danville, Indiana. 



" QUEER QUERIES." 

A BOOK FOR THE STUDENT. 

A BOOK FOR THE TEACHER. 

A BOOK FOR EVERYBODY. 

A COLLECTION OF QUESTIONS ON DIFFERENT BRANCHES OF 

STUDT. 

This system of teaching - " things not in the books " has been in use in many 01 
the public schools for several years, and has met with almost unlimited success in 
being- the means of indicating facts and principles into the youthful mind which 
can hardly be impressed upon the memory in any other way. It will lead to inves- 
tigations and researches on the part of the student which cannot prove otherwise 
than beneficial. Creates great interest in schools, at Institutes, wherever used. 

PREFATORY and EXPLANATORY. 

Queer Queries were collected in the following manner, viz: pupils were requested 
to bring any query which they thought would interest others or which they could 
not answer themselves, to the teacher. 

The teacher then placed ten of the first queries found in this little book upon the 
black-board and allowed them to remain there from Monday morning till Friday 
evening, when they were answered in a general exercise in which all the pupils 
shared equally. 

The result was that the school closed with a good understanding of why the time 
in China and America are not the same, of why the feet of the Chinese point tow- 
ard our own; of why the sun seems to rise in the east, of why Patagonia has no 
Capital, &c. 

The time occupied in this work was not to exceed ten minutes. 

The teacher tried this experiment the next week with the succeeding ten questions 
with the school thoroughly alive to this new departure: every question was intelli- 
gently discussed by the pupils, both old and young. 

The third week two or three heads of families sent queries (See Nos. 23, 27 and 
29), and the interest increased. The teacher kept up this system with no visible in- 
dication of lagging interest for one hundred weeks with the very best results. 

The demand for queries has been so great that we have consented to publish our 
first one thousand " Queer Queries." 

How to use Qeer Queries? take the book on Friday evening and call the atten- 
tion of the school to such queries as you may have selected by having the pupils to 
mark them by numbers; thus if you think it not best foryour school to take them in 
regular order and you should select Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 13, &c; — 
have the pupils " check " those numbers telling them they may study 
the questions at odd times till the next Friday evening when they 
may see who can answer the greatest number out of the ten selected. 
Pupils will individually ask you during the week to answer certain questions which 
they fail to find satisfactory theory for. Cite them to text-books, authors or per- 
sons within your knowledge where they will probably obtain the desired informa- 
tion; iu no case should you give the desired information direct to the individual; 
but should the school as a body not be able to answer a question satisfactorily, then 
will be the time to help it out of the dilemma by gradually and pleasantly leading 
the school to see and know the why and wherefore of the subject under 
consideration. 

Object of Queer Queries: 

1st. To lessen the care of the teacher and make the school more attractive for 
the pupils by adding spice to at least one exercise for the week. (The last day's 
work should be the most pleasant). 

2nd. To form habits of close observation in the growing pupil, and in forming' 
these habits which will cling to him through life, give him a fund of information 
which will well repay for all the trouble and time which such a plan imposes. 

Order a supply at once for your school. Agents wanted. No trouble to sell 
this little book. . Give it a trial and be convinced. Price, 25 cents; $1.60 per dozen, 
postpaid. Published by the Normal Publishing House, Danvjlle, Ind. 



METHODS OF TEACHING IN COUNTRY 
SCHOOLS. 



By G. Dallas Lind. 



Price $1.25. 

This work which is having such an extensive circulation, embodies the practical 
ideas of a teacher whose entire attention for many years has been devoted to the 
elevation of the country teacher's work. It is intensely practical and to the point, 
being devoid of everything foreign to the subject. Though written mainly for the 
use of the teacher in any school will find in it more that he can practically apply, 
than can be found in any other work. f 

Part 1 treats of "School Management," under three heads, namely, "The Teach- 
er," -'The School," and " The School House." " The Teacher " is discussed in re- 
spect to 1. Moral Qualfications. 2. Mental Qualifications. 3. Physical Qualifi- 
cations. 4. Scientific and Literary Qualifications. 5. .Personal habits. 6. la 
Relation to Patrons. 7. In Relation to Society. 8. Relation to the Profession. 
3. The School " is treated in respect to 1. Preliminary Work. 2. Organization. 

" Conducting Recitations. 4. Government. 

" The School House " is treated in respect to 1. Architecture. 2. Apparatus. 
3. Ventilation. 

Part II treats of " Methods of Teaching " proper and embraces Reading, Spell- 
ing and Defining, Arithmetic, Geography, Grammar, History, Anatomy, Physiolo- 
gy and Hygiene, Algebra, and the Higher Mathematics, Natural Sciences, Morals 
and Manners, Model Recitations, Miscellaneous, and Hints and Helps for the 
Teacher. 

The following are a few of the testimonials to the merits of Methods of Teaching 
in Country Schools, on file at our office. . 



WHAT THE SCHOOL JOURNALS SAY OF IT. 

The book deserves a place in the teacher's library and is well worth the price at 
which it is sold. Indeed, we are sure that the purchaser after a careful persusal of 
the book would feel that he had gotten more than the worth of his money — [Educa- 
tional Journal of Virginia. 

Its hints are practical and can be taken hold of by anybody who has force 
enough to grasp a plain thing set before him. The discussion of the Recitation is 
well worth the price of the book — [Troy Sentinel. 

One of the most important problems to be solved by the educators of to-day, is 
how to make successful the ungraded country schools. The author's counsel in re- 
gard to methods of teaching is in harmony with that of the best educators of the 
country, and the book is calculated to do a vast amount of good to those for whom 
it is especially designed and we advise all country teachers to secure a copy.— [Na- 
tional J ournal of Education. 

We could not help wishing, while reading this book, that it had been placed in 
our hands when we began to teach. Such a book should be welcomed, bought and 
studied by teachers. — [Southern Educational Monthly. 

Address, J. E. SHERRILL, 

Danville, Indiana. 



Grammar Made Attractive And Interesting. 



Wake Up Your Dull Grammar Class By Using The 

"2tf"©mcistl Teacher" I'strsiin.g' Book. 

This little book contains forty-eight blank pages ruled and ar- 
ranged for written parsing lessons, and several pages reading mat- 
ter, consisting of programmes and models for parsing every part of 
speech and for the analysis of sentences. Rules for distinguishing 
the different parts of speech in difficult cases, an explanation of the 
construction of Infinitives and Participles and the relative Pronoun. 
In short, a showing up, in convenient form, of the difficult points in 
Grammar besides the rules of Syntax, explanations and models for 
diagramming sentences and other matter, all of which every teach- 
er who knows anything about teaching Grammar will recognize at 
once as the most convenient thing imaginable to have in connection 
with the exercise book for use in the preparations of lessons. No 
one but the live teacher of Grammar knows the time and labor re- 
quired in putting these forms and models on the board from day to 
day. The book is by no means a treatise on Grammar, but is sim- 
ply matter arranged for the convenience of the pupil to save the 
time of the teacher. Normal teachers will want this little book in 
their schools at once and all who have had, or are having trouble in 
teaching Grammar would do well to adopt it also. It ought to be 
in use in every Grammar class in the land. Why? 

i. Because by its use you can secure regularity and order in the 
preparation of parsing lessons and steer clear of the old haphazard 
hit or miss style of recitation which makes Grammar " so dull and 
uninteresting." 

2. It cultivates systematic habits, is a drill in punctuation, pen- 
manship and neatness, and gives pupils something to do. 

3. The use of written lessons gives great life and interest to the 
recitation through the comparisons, criticisms, &c. 

4. By having the exercises corrected each day where mistakes 
have been made, the pupil has his work preserved to him in perma- 
nent form, for future reference. 

5. Good teachers do not pretend to teach parsing, analysis, &c, 
in any other way than by the use of written lessons to avoid waste 
of time, secure promptness and certainty of preparation. And all 
will prefer the Parsing Book from the fact that it is sold far cheaper 
than the blank paper can be bought at book stores. When these 
points are taken into consideration all must favor the immediate 
adoption of the book. Retail price 20c per copy. 

Samples to teachers for examination, with a view to introduction 
into schools, 15c 

Introductory rates by the quantity ; 6 copies for $1: 12 copies, 
$1.75. Order at once. Address J. E. SHERRILL, Proprietor 
Normal Publishing House, Danville, Indiana. 



CREATE AN INTEREST IN YOUR CLASSES. 



-Sil KE TIME AND TEACH PENMANSHIP, USE OF CAPITALS, AND 
ABBREVIATIONS, DIACRITICAL MARKS, <&C, BT USING 

—THE— 

"NORMAL TEACHER" 

Blanlz Speller. 

BY G. DALLAS LIND. 



In addition to the ordinary ruled blank book for writing spelling - lessons it con • 
tains the following valuable matter: 

1. Diacritical marks, their names and explanation of their uses. 

2. The principal available rules for spelling, pronunciation, use of capitals and 
punctuation. 

3. Hints in teaching spelling. 

4. Model spelling lessons and directions for using the book. 

REASONS WHY YOU SHOULD USE THIS BOOE: 

1. Because by its use you can secure regularity and order in the preparation of 
lessons. 

2. It cultivates systematic habits, is a drill in punctuation, penmanship and neat- 
ness, and gives pupils something to do. 

3. The use of written lessons gives great life and interest to the recitation through 
the comparisons, cri'icisms, &c. 

4. By having the exercises corrected each day where mistakes have been made, 
the pupil has his work preserved to him in permanent form, for future reference. 

5. Good teachers do not pretend to teach spelling in any other way than by the 
use of written lessons, to avoid waste of time, secure promptness and certainty of 
preparation. And all will prefer the Blank Speller from the fact that it is sold far 
cheaper than the blank paper can be bought at book stores. When Jthese points 
are taken into consideration all must favor the immediate adoption of the book. 

PRICE, 20 Cents. Sample for examination, with view to introduction, 15 cts. 
Introductory rates by the quantity: Six copies, $1.00; 12 copies, $1.75. 

ORDER AT ONCE. 

V ADDEESS 

J. E. SHERRILL, 

Prop'r Normal Publishing House, DANVIL.L.E, IND. 



POPULARIZE SCIENCE 

BY USING EASY EXPERIMENTS IN 

Chemistry and Natural Philosophy. 

BV G. DALLAS LIND, 

Author of " Methods of Teaching in Country Schools," "Normal Outlines of 
Common Branches" Etc. Price — 40c in Paper, 60c in Cloth. 

This book contains 200 experiments in Chemistry, and over 100 in Natural Philoso- 

Shy, all of which can be performed by any person, anywhere, with apparatus which 
e can constauct for himselt by the directions here given, and using such material as 
will cost but a trifle, or may be picked up anywhere. The greater number of the ex- 
periments in philosophy cost nothing but a little time, and all tne experiments in the 
book (something over 300), with the exception of half a dozen, maybe performed at a 
cost of less than 85. 

The experiments illustrate all the more important principles of these sciences. The 
MS. was placed in the hands of the classes in the Central Normal College, Danville, 
Ind., the students performing the experiments and constructing the apparatus. Its 
worth was thus practically tested before it went into print. 

1. Every teacher who has, or expects to have, a class in either of these sciences 
should possess a copy of this book. 

2. Every young person who wishes to pursue these studies privately should have 
a iopy. 

3. Every student in a Normal school, College or high school who Is studying these 
branches needs a copy. 

4. Every teacher of a country school, or of a graded school, should possess a copy, 
that he may be able to illustrate science in oral drills and lectures as a general morn- 
ing exercise. It is the best preventive of tardiness known. 

READ WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT IT AND THEN ORDER A COPY. 

It will be a great help to country teachers.— Greencastle Banner. 

This book of 102 pages contains 195 experiments in chemistry and 105 in natural 
philosophv. Directions are given for performing each experiment. Teachers and stu- 
dents will find the book very valuable.— Western Ed. Review. 

This book is almost indispensable to those who are studying chemistry experi- 
mentallv, and to those teaching it, along with the various other departments of the 
common schools, where the mind can not be given wholly to the subject. It simplifies 
the apparatus, presents the experiments in concise form, giving in connection with 
each all the necessarv cautions, and makes the laboratory work easy and practical. It 
is divided into two principal departments, "Experiments in Chemistry," and -'Natural 
Philosophv," vet has an added chapter of interest on preserving natural history speci- 
mens, which will enhance its value to the entomological connoiseur.— Religio-Philo- 
sophical Journal. , , . „ . , , _, 4 

The object of this drill work is praiseworthy and is well carried out. It aims to 
instruct the student in chemistrv and natural philosophy in the performance of simple 
experiments, illustrative of great principles, without the aid of expensive apparatus, 
and at trifling cost. Many of the experiments are practical as well as simple. As a 
handbook for learners in chemistry it possesses decided merit.— Indianapolis Daily 
Journal. . » 

The author of this volume is well knowu as a practical teacher, and his other vol- 
umes have shown him to be a forcible and unpretentious writer. This little book fills 
a real want. There are treatises enough on chemistry and natural philosophy, but 
there is very little experimenting done. The way in which the two subjects are 
taught is enough to destrov anv boy's interest; a book is put into his hands. The true 
method is that of investigation— that is, to use an experiment to find out a principle. 
We heartilv welcome this volume.— New York School Journal. 

We could give manv other testimonials and notices of the book, but the above are 
sufficient to show the great favor with which the book is everywhere received, and 
how universallv its object is commended. 

Price— Pape'r, 40 cents; Cloth, 60 cents. One-cent stamps accepted. Address, 
J. E. SHERRILL, Prop. Normal Publishing House, 

Danville, Ind. 



A SCHOOL HISTORY 

OF THE 

-Cr^TITEXD STATES. 

BY A PRACTICAL TEACHER. 

The first edition of Professor Henry's History of the United States being exhausted, 
the Publishers, encouraged by its very favorable reception among teachers and 
friends of Education, have issued a SECOND EDITION brought down to the present 
year (1880). The author has carefully revised the work— making improvements and 
important additions. 

It has been in most successful use in many schools of Kentucky, Tennessee, Illi- 
nois. Indiana, Ohio, Iowa and Missouri. Its admirable adaptation to the wants of the 
school-room has won for it the encomiums of every teacher who has examined it. 

The peculiarities of the work are its commendable conciseness, topical arrange- 
ment, and the prominence given to the chronological order of events. The Tabulated 
Reviews and the Analytic Synopses are well adapted to fix events and their dates in 
the mind. 

The Histories which are usually adopted in our schools are seldom thoroughly 
learned by the pupil. The reason is obvious; they contain too many words and too 
little matter. They are verbose, chaffy and ill-arranged; they are neither topical, 
chronological nor analytical; in fact, they are wanting in nearly every element neces- 
sary to constitute them good school books. So true is this, that teachers are compelled 
to epitomize and re-arrange their contents to secure any degree of success in teaching 
them. 

PRICES: 

Retail $1.85 

For First Introduction, ) * qq 
Sample Copy for Examination, J 

Introductions are only made to take the place of corresponding books of other 
series in actual use in the schools, or to supply new classes not previously using any 
text-book on United States History. A liberal discount made to the trade. 

Received with Universal Approbation by Teachers and Educators everywhere. 
WE HAVE SPACE FOR ONLY TWO TESTIMONIALS. READ! READ! READ! 

I am well pleased with Henrv's Revised History. Undoubtedly it is the crnning 
History. I trust that its use may become general. T. J. LOAR, Towanda, 111. 

A volume of the valuable and interesting history, by Prof. W. H. F. Henry, of this 
rUv hns been placed upon our table. We have carefully examined the work, and 
find it is all that is claimed for it, viz.: the best school history of the United States 
pvpr Published Mr. Henrv has been engaged in teaching ever since he was old 
Pnoiiffh to "assume such duties, and has devoted much of his time and study to the 
Pnrn™iation of this excellent book, which can not tail to be a success, and for which 
All tpaohers will owe him a debt of gratitude. We can not do the book justice in a 
short notice, for it is deserving of an extended one, ana of the very highest commend- 
ation ha vine fewer faults and more merit than any other school history yet published. 
Our worthy Superin tent of Public Instruction, Colonel Jos. Desha Pickett, in a letter 
to Professor Henrv, dated June 29, says : . 

"ft affords me sincere pleasure to inform you that your school history of the 
United States was adopted, to-dav, as a text-book by the State Board of Education. 
Mav its circulation prove worthy of the talent and enterprise of its author." 

It is especially adapted to the school-room; its topical and chronological arrange- 
ment and its synoptical analysis for reviews, can not be surpassed. It embraces all 
the principal events concerning the United States. It is a national history non-par- 
tisan and strictly avoids all sectional views. In a word, it is compact without ver- 
bose 'details, and! we predict, will eventually be adopted by the schools throughout 
the entire Union We could sav much more of the work, but have not the space. 
The price of the work is $1.35.— Paducah (Ky. ) Daily Herald. 

1 If vou are not satisfied with the book you are using, try Henry's. 

2. If you desire a work that is eminently adapted to the wants of the school-room, 
try Henry^s.^ degire & WQrk that gives the essentials and eschews the non-essentials, 
try 4 en pF n ^ lly) if you desire the best School History extant, the par excellence of its 

111 Do not ask us for free sample copies for examination, as we can not afford to send copies 
free to school officers, teachers or any one. . 

Send one dollar for sample copy, and, after examination, if you do not desire to 
keep the book, return it and the money will be refunded. 

Address all orders to J. E. SHERRILL, Proprietor Normal Publishing House, Dan- 
ville, Indiana. 



THE PROPER METHOD OF TEACHING HISTORY. 

OUTLINES OF UNITED STATES HISTORY. 

BY R. HEBER HCLBROOK, 

Associate Principal National Normal School, Lebanon, Ohio. Price, 75 cents. 

This work is the result of practical school-room tests, through many years, as to the 
best methods of teaching history. The methods generally in use make the study dry 
and repulsive. Memorizing dates and trying to answer certain questions are not all of 
the study of history. 

This book presents a logical, concise and complete classification of the whole sub- 
ject. The knowledge of an event is of no importance unless taken in connection with 
other events. The events are here presented in their true relations, co-ordinating and 
subordinating, generalizing and particularizing, so that a view of the whole subject 
may be grasped by the mind and retained in the memory. 

It will be valuable not only in the school-room, but will answer a good purpose to 
the private student of history as a book of reference. 

READ WHAT THEY SAT ABOUT IT AND SEND FOR A COPT. 

The work is a valuable addition to any library.— Gretncastle Banner. 

The work is really a compilation of dates and events, systematically and inge- 
niously arranged so as to strike the eye and memory.— Indianapolis Daily Journal. 

This is a very useful volume. The writer is the son of A. Holbrook, Principal of 
the Lebanon Normal School, Ohio, and is recognized as a most able teacher. His mind 
is amply stored, and he stands in a commanding position. The work he is doing will 
be felt in thousands of schools. Of this,he is conscious, and this text-book shows a cor- 
rect desire to aid the teacher to work rapidly and skillfully. The work is not to sup- 
plant any text-book, but to aid the teacher to teach. It must be confessed that the method 
of the teacher is the key to the success of th# pupil. These outlines will be of service 
to any teacher.— New York School Journal. 

These outlines present a clear view of American history. They present the subject 
In an attractive light to the child, and incite to investigation.— Western Ed. Review. 

We can say from twenty years' experience in the school-room that it will fill a long- 
felt want.— Hendricks County Union. 

The aim of the author in this hand-book of United States history is to present a 
quick but total bird's-eye of our nation's history, making a full survey of the whole 
ground, and marking out its salient features. The whole is divided into three great 
eras and nine great periods. The three eras are. Organization, Nationalization, Refor- 
mation. The nine periods (three to each era) are, Explorations, Colonization, Consol- 
idation, Separation, Organization, Federalization, Agitation, Emancipation, Reorgani- 
zation. These outlines were first presented and tested nearly ten years ago. They cer- 
tainly bid fair to be useful to both teachers and pupils.— The Church Union. 

Many more such notices could be given, but the above are sufficient. Hoping to 
receive your early order, I am. Very truly , 

J. E. SHERRILL, Prop. Normal Publishing House. 

Danville, Ind. 



A WORK OF GREAT IMPORTANCE. 



.E 



Lawyer in the School-Room 

COMPRISING THE LAWS OF ALL THE STATES ON IMPORT- 
ANT EDUCATIONAL SUBJECTS, 

CAREFULLY COMPILED, ARRANGED, CITED AND EXPLAINED 

By M. McN. WALSH, A. M., LL B., 

Of the New York Bar. 

The value of such, a work as this to teachers of all grades can not be estimated. 
Almost all the trouble between teachers and parents and pupils arises from ignorance 
of the laws regarding certain duties. A glance at the TABLE OF CONTENTS of this 
work will show at once that it meets the wants of every teacher in the land. 

KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE 

BY READING AND OBEYING THE INSTRUCTIONS AS SET FORTH IN THIS 
LITTLE WORK. 

IRJE^ID! IREA-DI! :e,IELA.:D ! ! ! 



TABLE OF CONTENTS: 

CHAPTER I.— Of Schools, School Systems and Governments. Giving an explanation 
of the different plans that have been adopted for the diffusion of knowledge 
in all countries, ancient and modern, and showing the effects which govern- 
mental school systems have had upon the destiny of nations. 

CHAPTER II.— The Law as to Religion in Schools. This chapter contains the old 
English and Colonial Laws relative to the subject, and gives a succinct legal his- 
tory (all taken from law books and court records) of the origin and progress of 
" religious liberty " in this country. 

CHAPTER III.— The Law as to Religion in Schools. In this chapter the laws of the 
several States, now in force, are carefully explained and cited. 

CHAPTER IV.— The Law as to Corporal Punishment— Parent and Child 

CHAPTER V.— The Law as to Corporal Punishment— Teacher and Pupil. 

CHAPTER VI.— The Law as to Punishment for Misconduct out of school. 

CHAPTER VII.— The Law as to the Proper Instrument to be used in Punishing. 

CHAPTER VIII.— The Law as to the Right of Parents to Interfere with the Rules or 
the Methods of Discipline adopted in Schools. 

CHAPTER IX.— The Law as to the Teacher's Morality. 

PRICE, $1.00, POST-PAID. 

LIBERAL TERMS TO AGENTS AND THE TRADE. 
Address J. E 8HEBBILL, 



(IIST PEESS.) 

Tla.e 3^Torz^LSul 

DIALOGUE BOOK. 

AREANGED WITH A VIEW TO GIVING SOME- 
THING HIGHLY ENTERTAINING, AND AT 
THE SAME TIME SOMETHING SUIT- 
ABLE AND PRACTICABLE 
FOR THE 

SCHOOL EXHIBITION 

Requiring nothing difficult in Costume, Stage Arrangements, etc., many of them are 
equally well ADAPTED TO THE "LITERARY SOCIETY" AND ANY SOCIABLE 
OR EVENING PARTY. 

The book is rich in the most entertaining material for stage exercises to be found 
anywhere. The material is CHOICE IN QUALITY AND ABUNDANT IN QUAN- 
TITY. It is made up of the best selections from a great number of publications, and 
comprises in its list A LARGE AND FIRST-CLASS COLLECTION OF 

DIALOGUES, TABLEAUX f CHARADES, 

TOGETHER WITH 

PANTOMIMES, SHADOW SCENES, 

And various other material for an evening entertainment. THEY ARE ALL LIVE 
SELECTIONS in the sense that they contain none of the stale jokes and thread-bare 
performances of old-time " exhibitions " but are fresh, and flush with the feeling and 
interests of a new day. A large proportion of the selections are humorous, but other 
veins of feeling have play and all are of excellent sentiment in which youth and chil- 
dren can not fail to find benefit. 

As entertaining performances as we have ever witnessed have been quite off-hand 
requiring scarcely any time and no expense in their preparation. 

THE NORMAL DIALOGUE BOOK 

Gives instructions and suggestions as to how many of these things may be arranged 
and gotten off with fine effect, to meet the limited time of teachers in their schools or 
an impromptu presentation at the social gathering. 

It is arranged to meet the capacity of all grades of pupils, containing parts for the 
little ones as well as the older. In short we have endeavored to make the book 

THE MOST COMPLETE AND DESIRABLE WORK OF THE KIND EXTANT, 

IFrice, SO Cents. 

Great Inducements to Agents. Liberal Terms to the Trade. 
Address J. E. SHERRILL, 

Proprietor Normal Publishing House, DANVILLE, IND. 



SOJMZZETIHIIlSra- ZEnTZETW^! 



The Normal Speaker! 

By FRANK F. PRIGG. 

A Book Suited to the Wants of All, from the Smallest School- 
Child to the Oldest Reader. 

Do you want the most eloquent passages ever delivered by our greatest orators? 

Do you want the most soul-stirring patriotism? 

Do you want the purest, tenderest, and most ennobling pathos? 

Do you want the most droll, eccentric and ludicrous descriptions and characteri- 
zations? 

Do vou want the ricbest, rarest and most side-splitting humor? 

Do you want to arouse a new interest in literature and elocution among your 
pupils? 

Do you want the selections recited by the most eminent elocutionists? 

Do you want the cream, the quintessence of all that is suitable for reading or 
declaiming in schools, exhibitions, literary societies, picnics, or in the family or pri- 
vate reading club? 

Buy the NORMAL SPEAKER, and you will be sure to find in it something that will 
supply your want. Many persons buy a great number of books in order to get a few 
first class selections; in the preparation of this work the weak and worn-out selections 
have been carefully avoided, giving the MOST REALLY GOOD reading ever offered in 
one book. 

If you are in need of anything of the kind, it will pay you to order a copy of this 
book at once. Nearly 200 pp. 

Price only 50 cents ; $4.00 per dozen, post-paid. 

Address J. R SHERRILL, Publisher, 

DANVILLE, INDIANA. 

SCHOOL EXPOSITIONS 

By K. HE BEE HOLBBOOK, 

Associate Principal National Normal School, Lebanon, Ohio, and author of 
a series of Normal Publications. 

This book is the key to the whole Normal system, setting forth most admirably its 
practical workings. That there is philosophy and reason in all of its workings has 
long since been demonstrated, and of this part of it our book has something to do. It 
gives specific directions for arranging and carrying on the term's work so that it may 
result in the possession of a large amount of material for a school exposition. School. 
Expositions are fast becoming the popular entertainments of our schools. 

This book will teach you how to wake up your dull school, and make it bristle 
with life and interest. 

The work must be read to be appreciated. 

This little work will revolutionize and reform methods of teaching throughout the 
nation. It presents briefly but practically the latest inventions and discoveries of one 
of the most independent and ingenious teachers in America. It is intended for teach- 
ers of all grades. The country district school teacher will find it practically invalua- 
ble, while the oldest and most successful school superintendent will gather from it 
new and practical ideas that can be applied to renovate and vitalize the oldest graded 
system. 

It presents in full the method of school expositions, which the author was the 
first in this country to suggest and the first to practically carry out. The results of his 
school work, as prepared and exhibited according to the plans described in this work, 
received the mention of the State Superintendent of New Jersey in his annual report 
and attracted the special attention and mention of the New York Tribune correspond" 
ent from the Universal Exposition at Paris, where the system and materials were 
placed on exhibition by the Educational Commissioner for America. 

Price, 75 cents, post-paid. 

A'* " -* J. E. SHERRILL, Prop. Normal Publishing House, 

\ Danville, Indiana. 



NOW IS THE TIME TO WORK FOE, TEE 

Normal Teacher, 

By so doing you will help yourselves, us, your friends and education 
in general. 



GOOD BOOKS FREE! 

The Normal Publishing House offers free to those who send subscrip- 
tions to the Normal Teacher, as follows: 

1. For a club of two, at SI. 00 each, a copy of JEsop's Fables, cloth, 208 pp., or For- 
eign Gleanings 

2. For a club of three at 81.00 each, your choice of the following books: 

1. Life of Robt, Burns, by Thomas Carlyle, 203 pp., cloth. 

2. Arabian Nights, 543 pp., cloth. 

3. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, 247 pp., cloth. 

4. Life "of Csesar, by Liddell, 475 pp., cloth. 

5. Life of Columbus, by Lamartine, 236 pp., cloth. 

6. Life of Oliver Cromwell, by Lamartine, 288 pp., cloth. 

7. Works of Dante, The Vision ; or, Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise, 800 pp., cloth. 

8. Don Quixote. 402 pp., cloth. 

9. Frederick the Great, bj- Macaulav, 277 pages, cloth. 

10. Life of Hannibal, bv Thomas Arnold, 322 pp., cloth 

11. Joan of Arc, Life by Michelet, 238 pp., cloth. 

3. For a club of five at 75 cents each, your choice of the following: 

1. Dictionary of Shakspearian Quotations, 48 pp., cloth, 12mo. 

2. Koran of Mohammed, by Geo. Sale, 800 pp,, cloth. 

3. Lady of the Lake, by Sir Walter Scott, 312 pp. cloth. 

4. Robinson Crusoe, Daniel DeFoe. 

4. For a club of ten at 75 cents each, we offer Chambers' Cyclopedia of English 
Literature, 4 vols., 3314 pp. This is indeed a magnificent gift. 

5. For a club of twenty at 75 cents each, we make the unparallelled offer of a copv 
of Goold Brown's Grammar of English Grammars, a work too well known to need 
further explanation here. 

We call attention to our new Premium Circular which is now ready for 
distribution. Send for a copy. 



OUR LATEST PREMIUM OFFERS. 

To Any old subscriber, renewing his own subscription (§1.00). and sending us tha 
name of one new subscriber, with $1.00, Ave will send, post-paid, a copy of Easy Exper- 
iments in Chemistry and Philosophy. 

To Any old subscriber renewing his own subscription and sending us the names of 
two new subscribers at $1.00 each, we will send, post-paid, a copy of Holbrook's Out- 
lines of U. S. History. 

To Any old subscriber renewing his own subscription and sending us the names of 
three new subscribers at $1.00 each, we will send, post-paid, a copy of any of the fol- 
lowing books: Methods of Teaching in Country Schools, and Queer Queries; The 
Normal Question Book; a copy each of Easy Experiments in Chemistry, History 
Outlines, and the Normal Speaker; Dale's Outline of Elocution; or any $1.50 work oh 
teaching. 

Write us for sample copies of The Teacher, and go to Avork at once. 

GREAT INDUCEMENTS TO AGENTS TO CANVASS FOR 
OUR BOOKS. 

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Address T. E. SHT^^^TXjIj, 

j House, DA* ^^^ 



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and we will forward you our premium list and full instructions iu regard to the work, 
so that you can give your County a good canvassing. 



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\ Normal Publishing House, 
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j House, DAu . NDIANA> 



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